Thursday, April 12, 2018
The blankets I’m wrapped up in
Keep my fingers from turning blue
But true warmth is unattainable
If I’m here without you.
I reach for you occasionally
As if I’ll be able to feel you breathing
And you just rolled over in courtesy
Since you were snoring rather loudly.
If I saw you there next to me
I would want to wake you up,
Not just to disturb your sleep,
But because I liked it when we would stay up and talk.
Now I get excited and go to shake you,
But the only thing I find next to me is my sheet,
Not as soft as the touch of your skin
And nowhere near as warm as you would be.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
LITERATURE SHOULD MEAN SOMETHING IN
walking down the street
looks up to see
wheeling in the air looks
up to see a billboard plastered
with black letters.
BIRDS LIKE ME
says the billboard, and
a pigeon lights on it.
(Birds like me is the theme for April for submissions to Waterways: Poetry in the Mainstream. This year the themes are all taken from poems by Cornelius Eady.)