in bed with the
paper, reading the
personals
her ex- husband's
pompous ad |
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in his son's kitchen
the old man and his dog
breakfast quietly . . .
remembering her smile
as she poured the tea
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garage sale;
the flowered couch on which
I became a woman -
father died so many years
before
my mother knew
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beside my bed
a pink lily, with petals
open wide
folds curve backward
at the tip, exposed.
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river stones
older
than our time
together ...
in this cool mist
rising between us
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as you held me
in the space of a song
your eyes
took my breath away
and I fell in love
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some tell
time
by stars and dreams
others by flowers . . .
my love for you records
our days and hours |
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early morning,
a blossom's wet mouth
at my window
petals
open wide
curling at the tips
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deep inside
stars crackle from the past
through his heart,
taken from his last dream
he lets go, traveling on.
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morning mammo,
when
her teeth unclench
by noon
she growls as he asks
"so, how was your day?"
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