fragile

watch her face in the morning sunlight streaming in
climbing loose-limbed, teasing the crumpled bedclothes
strong, unstoppable, intense as jealous mind
hating the night for taking her away
slowly picking out the colours of her skin
the pale forehead, the light pink cheeks
unseen in the now fading darkness
glowing glimmering as each hair shines out
the soft conch-like ears quiver as the light falls on them
pulling the bedsheets closer
yes you can sleep a little while longer
and unstated:
my fragile darling

Through the traffic

it is a rushed evening, following a rushed day
the sun glares through the windscreen
above the buildings in the distance
low enough to blind you to the cars
carroming their way ahead of you
your phone is ringing, even on silent
the soft whirr incessantly droning on
a car pulls up at the traffic light next to you
the music so loud your car looks like its dancing
to the beat of the absent drummer
the lights turn green, your car won’t start
and the honks behind grow loud and long
there’s no gas you suddenly realise, getting out
to push uphill, to the side, to the pump
to anywhere

and then she smiles at you,
the half impish grin,
the sigh of the ages,
saying, oh well, here goes
and she gets out to lend you a hand
and the day isn’t so bad
after all.

It takes a while to write

It takes a while to write,
to loosen out the kinks
to bend and stretch the words
to work with pen and ink
to feel the flow and ebb
to start the ending day
to keep the wolves from home
to watch the kids at play
to write about the minutes
when seconds are all you’ve got
to write about the moments
that everyone’s forgot
to think about the happiness
that you know is not there
to waste that burning cigarette
when it’s using up the air
to find the words to begin
and the words to end
the words that go in the middle
and the words to …

and so begins the slow downfall
of a man without a thought
he felt he heard the silent night
and the seven o’clock news
and when the women come and go
his works will lie broken; he will despair
his words will follow, the thoughts will grow

is anyone listening anymore?