the kiss

 

a kiss brushed against innocence like a present

neatly wrapped for a Christmas morning.

the children, full of anticipation, are unable to sleep

while their parents downstairs worry about the bills.

there are so many bills.

 

perhaps time has imagination after all,

or at least energy.

its incessant plodding and the clocks always ticking, ticking,

drowning out the sound of your heart

but not the words you whisper.

such sweet words.

 

time fails when we are together.

we slip between it like waves through the rocks.

another kiss then until tomorrow,

when it awakens like an angry sky,

uncertain witness to our night.

 

3/8/12

in the emptiness

 

my bed, when you are away,

is empty and cold.

your scent fades from the pillow

like the last hint of a mountain echo.

i draw the blankets tight around me

and dream of your soft skin;

the love in your eyes.

 

i know you are asleep

dreaming your own dreams,

your hair a dark storm,

your breath measured and deep.

you reach out for me in the emptiness

and i am there.

 

                11/19/11

without metaphor

they say a poem without metaphor

is really just a personal anecdote,

empty, like a boat run aground

on an unseen sandbar,

its crew gone, seeking other fortune.

 

you and i walk down to the marina

and find a bench where we sit and watch

as other boats are captained in and out

of the harbor.  Their crews cast

dismissive glances at the hapless boat.

i wonder though if they aren’t secretly glad

not to be sharing that fate.

 

seagulls circle above like paparazzi,

annoying, intrusive and unwilling

(perhaps unable) to leave.  Eventually

the sun sets and the sky explodes,

a shower of gold and red.

 

and our eyes, then our lips meet,

the poem complete.

 

12/13/11