Post by rrw on Jan 2, 2012 22:57:00 GMT -5
The evergreen scratches at
the window, growls a sound
not unlike that which sleeping
dogs make while dreaming cats.
Outside my apartment,
thinned and muddied by a sudden rain,
the last handful of evening traffic wanders by....
A thousand foot thought
quivers in my head, a moth trapped
indoors by the dirty screen
on the only open window in the house....
Yes, a way out it seems but... no, it’s not.
My unkind words chip away
at whatever self-respect I have left.
Your face turns to sour milk.
Once my tongue played with you,
stuck itself outside my mouth to tease
or just to wipe the strawberry ice cream
from your face... You always said that was gross...
then laughed like a little girl.
No laugher this evening as you pack
everything you own (clothes, CDs, a hair brush,
a number of smelly, bottled lotions I never saw you use),
you cram everything into one small
suitcase, the one with the broken zipper,
everything you loved shoved into leaving,
everything except me.
And my tongue just can’t do anything right,
unreasonably it believes that if it whips you hard
enough you might stay. But of course, you won’t.
In the damp parking lot
a little girl screams with fake fear,
her taller brother chases after her
handfuls of soggy autumn leaves
cocked and ready to do mischief....
But she’s too damn quick witted for that!
She zigs and zags she screams and laughs
and yells, “You better not!”
But the boy won’t listen.
The same way I never listened to you.—rrw 1-2-12
again and getting the jist of the each stanza, brilliant my friend.
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
