PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

CAN I SEE YOU YESTERDAY

Can I see you yesterday? 

Kisses fall like the painter’s snowflakes

On oil laced canvases of gray

On brilliant blue.

Can I see you a week ago?

Lips on lips and breath on breath,

Sunlight picks up the autumn glow

On satin skin.

Can I see you a month ago?

Caresses trace summer

Light on cheeks.

Can I see you a year gone past?

Can I see you in the decades before?

The quarter centuries and the golden annuals?

The diamond jubilee, I want with you to see,

If you would just agree?

Brown eyes to brown eyes,

Time on time,

Tell me your mine.

Give me the answer 

To the question asked.

When would you like to see me again? 

Yesterday is not soon 

Enough.  

He's A Pine Cone Collector

She let me warm my hands on her breast

While she brought the wine glass from the Restore

To my lips.

She said her toes were cold from waiting,

While I had picked pine cones from the ground around the mailbox

And laid them on the bush 

Outside my door. 

They would look fine 

In the bowl

Beneath the credenza. 

And that had led from taking out the garbage 

And from a shower after a nap

While her toes grew cold from waiting.

Yet she let me warm my hands upon her breast,

While she served me refrigerated wine,

From the half gallon. 

On the Table

I look at your hand,

Lying , resting, quiet on the table,

Resting, lying quiet on the wood,

And I want to crawl

Between your fingers.

I want to climb

Into that spot that marries up to

Mine, when we hold hands,                                    

Loosely when we stroll,

So they move like reeds on the beach

Responding to a wind or turn of the path.

Or, snug with that wrap around clasp I like,

Where I anchor my small around your

Strong index,

Wrist to wrist to feel your heart beat.

Or, warm and passive in the

Movie light flicker, fragrant from popcorn

And love making.

I look at your hand,

And lay mine there, resting, quiet

On the table,

Resting, lying quiet

On the wood.