Startle me with song,
surprise me with a sonnet while I think
that the days are long and
the words don't even caress after they make love
any more.
I'm continually crawling down the walk, listening to the day warblers and
successful chins chopping the air,
thinking them better than me,
better than another human rock-flying
through space.
Keep close, red throat,
and you too, pen,
if we don't clutch after we make love,
we might just slip it.
Comments
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so i somehow just now noticed this one.
amazing. i love how strongly you shine through in your poetry. -
I agree most heartily with the lovely Kate. The first five lines are, in a word, amazing. There is a tinge of sadness, threaded with a touch of hope, in them and it makes me miss the bliss of brand new love. BUT, the warmth of a long established affair is beautiful in its own right and in the meantime, I will continue my liaison with my poetry...
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Jesse this is really beauty, and disheartening to me. I can see it in my head play out as a Shakesperian tragedy with modern music, a classic in the making. You're an amazing talent that I hope to never lose as a friend and as a beautiful author. You amaze me.
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