of that i am certainly not certain
I have two apples. Two
apples and
a pat on the cheek.
Two oranges for penance
one more for dessert,
and
the pear i save only
for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a fallen friday morning
petting children in the park
and all the while the minstrel sang
with the ever timely dark
and whithered boughs of honey due
swung gaily as we past
and drowned us in their sweet perfume
this swim at once our last
It matters not what's said of now
or how or why or whence
but tip you hats and raise your glass
for those who've 'scaped pretense
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It would be silly to say
that days have not passed since the morning.
That moons have not rose from the night.
When only myself, browning, and god
have any claim on life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was the curve of her ankle
with the ceiling in reach
and flowers tied to thread
in her hands.
And I was the lift of a chin
in the mornings
and the sigh that
followed in defeat.
Her laugh was small
as her tea pot's handle
and those notes she left
when she left, for she left
While beauty surpassed me
in cardboard boxes
shipped to the islands
for cereal box prizes.
At dinner she would say
where she'd been.