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Three Verses
I took the tea-cup gently, thinking maybe
It would shimmer as I passed it to my lips
It did not, and I replaced it in its saucer
Gently, things have a tendency to break
Around here
He is sitting on the other side of the table, thinking maybe
Today would be the last day of this charade
It was not, he sighed and brushed his hand across the lace
Table cloth, back and forth like an amateur
Puppet
She is lying in her crib, thinking maybe
It is nice just to lie here in the womb of darkness
So dark, her tiny face lies sideways on the white lace
Pillow. Things have a tendency to break
Around here.
| Posted by Matt at 15:37 /writing # |