LOVE POEM #92 – SPARE CHANGE

Spare Change

 

It feels dishonest to call her a dime,

a penny, a nickel, or a quarter.

A fifty-cent piece doesn’t do it

and even a silver dollar falls short.

 

She doesn’t slip nicely between the folds

of my freshly bought dark brown wallet

like a twenty dollar bill, creased over

from its dozens of previous owners.

 

She might shine like spare change;

jingle like a pocketful of coins,

perhaps even grin like a president,

but to me, she’s priceless.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #91 – The Feline and the Mutt

The Feline and the Mutt

 

They stare at each other through the window

briefly, before he leaps against the glass

and she goes running back to the great room

to hide behind the cushions for a bit,

 

but after he wanders off to go play

she slinks out from her hiding place to watch

as he snaps at fluttering butterflies

passing through the yard for their summer trip.

 

I think she wonders what it would be like

to feel the warm air against her skin

to jump after their orange patterned wings

and leave those clawless paw prints next to his.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #89 – The Leaf

The Leaf

 

If you look at all the flowers

blooming in the fresh spring air

you might miss her floating in the breeze

on her way to greet you from the forest,

 

but if you keep focused on the flowing sky

you will catch sight of her fluttering

like a dancer, so forgotten in her song

that it seemed like the wind was flying on her.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #88 – Hotel Stop / Through the Wall

Hotel Stop / Through the Wall

 

It started with a tap,

light and fast, like a rat in the wall,

followed by a whispered echo

asking for an answer we both knew

should never have been yes.

 

Yet I tapped back,

slow and uncertain, thinking that maybe

it had just been her shuffling around

while the TV blared in the background,

and then came the knock on my hotel door.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #86 – Sleeping / Waking

The peacefulness of a Buddhist

draws its way across your brow

beneath the wisps of blonde hair

that hide the blank expression on your face.

 

Then, with the flutter of your eyelids,

the materialism of your features fly back

like the flare of spring when Persephone

crossed the fiery steps of Hades back to Earth.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #84 – A Short One

A short one today

 

A stroll through the sultry park air

A bite at the bistro down the way

A touch of time in the April rain

A look through the library books

A frolic through the fountain springs

 

Perhaps, even, a romp in the rafters

a few minutes before the run to work;

A short one, but not so short

that it will be forgotten.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #83 – PDA

Most people wrinkle their noses

at the sight of us swapping spit,

or they avert their jealous eyes

to an embrace held for too long.

 

Some will even holler at us

not knowing we came from a room

that we rented at a the hotel

where, as now, their cries went unheard.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #82 – RECKLESS

The mistake of falling for you

was the finest mess I’ve made

between the hours of four and five

in these reckless temporal mornings.

 

It was like riding on a runaway train

in the red-orange twilight sky

after a rainfall had left the tracks

a treacherous mass of rust.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #81 – SCRAPBOOK

Our bench beneath the Jacaranda tree,

where we watched the birds bounce

in the blossoms of purple snowfall

that swirled in the summer breeze

 

is the last happy memory I have of you.

It sits in our scrapbook next to the letter

you wrote to me longingly from Spain,

which in turn is by the tickets

 

we took to the concert in Claremont,

not two miles from where we conceived

the first of our two children

under a thicket in the corner of the park.

 

To think that the pages of our scrapbook

would end up only partway finished

when it came time to place in on the shelf

to gather dust for the rest of eternity

 

save perhaps for the evening of the party

that Penelope will undoubtedly throw

a year from today, where I will remark

how you beamed as the birds ate your bread.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #80 – CORE

Like the one from an apple

that careened out the car window

and waited to corrode in the dirt

after the driver was done with it,

I felt rotted to my core

when you broke up with me.

 

The bitter seasons rolled by

as the mold set in my stomach,

until I was buried six feet underground.

 

Yet as the seeds took to the soil,

the flicker of life resowed the roots

of the once forgotten fruit,

and suddenly the driver, the windows,

and even the lonely sidewalk,

gave way to the new spring blossoms.

——

 

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