Thursday, April 25, 2013

Full Bellies and Mature Relationships                                                          

Alone at the end of the evening
Snifter of amber liquid in my hand
Smooth and warm flowing down my gullet
Until it comes to rest on Filet Mignon and Crème Brule

Flat screen monitor
Illuminating my face in the dark of night
The keyboard calls to me, the blank page­­–mocks me.
The poet smiles back at them –with confidence.

Hours pass like minutes
Rivers of rhyme flow like mighty torrents
Muddy rivers suddenly run clear
With the changing of –just— one—word.

Never truly alone, on any evening.
Amber liquid, Keyboard, Flat Screen Monitor
And the sweet kiss of the one I love, fresh upon my lips
As she leaves me to my writing, and goes upstairs to bed. 

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