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 #90 – Drifting

Drifting

 

In the dance, when we drifted across the floor

the palms of our hands pulled one another

like two ends of the same string

entwined in the eternal knot of passion,

 

but now our drifting is done from desk chairs

that have shifted so far down the hallway

I am sitting by our double hung windows

and you are staring out the door.

——

 

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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 #87 – Roommate

Roommate

 

I felt your heart between my fingers

beating like a heavy drum

and forgave how broken you were

when I found you on that bench

 

bleeding in the black of night

after some boy had left you

covered in sticky red bruises

that you said you deserved.

——

 

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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 #85 – Late

Late

 

in life,

when love seems as difficult as laughter

the amber light of your reading chair may grow so dim

that you will struggle to see the letters on the page.

 

The white stationary of the note will be distant

and the scrawled, black handwriting so thin

that you may begin to wonder if her specter really existed

or if she was simply an illusion shaped by your sour heart.

 

Still, you will stay up, sunk into your chair

reading through a misty pair of glasses

at the page you have folded so many times

that you know the story of every crease.

——

 

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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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