You were fighting
a wooly mammoth
with a light saber.
plainly losing the battle.
Your cries drew me to consciousness,
so I saved you
with a waking shake.
Never let it be said,
I haven’t got your back.
poem-longing February 9, 2016
Every minute that I wait for you
I will be longing for your arms
for the solace of your comfort
for the tenderness of your lips
While I am driving home
I will be wishing to have arrived.
You may not believe it’s true
but I always long to be with you.
poem-visiting February 8, 2016
Dad came for a visit
and we discussed laundry soap
in my dream.
He didn’t ask about Mom,
and I didn’t tell him.
poem-crystal February 7, 2016
The sky is dusty
crystalline mist
glistening air.
This is not
a sign of spring.
poem-princess? February 6, 2016
She says she’s not waiting for a handsome prince
and laughs like she’s joking.
But she had a handsome prince
and she she treated him like a frog,
so if one was to come along now,
I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t even recognize him.
poem-appealing
“a man in a kilt will always be more appealing than anyone in lederhosen.”
~Diana Gabaldon
The appeal is likely the easier peeling?
poem-flocked absence February 5, 2016
The world is flocked white
and I stretch my toes searching for your lingering warmth.
Absent.
It’s slow on the road today,
highway’s slick and I wish I could take a sick day.
Absent.
The world is flocked white
like it’s powdered me on the trees; I’m empty.
Absent.
The world is flocked white
I want to abrogate responsibility and hibernate.
Absent.
poem-dotty February 4, 2016
Star speckled sky,
orbs orbiting,
motes in the sun beams,
circles circling,
dots on the shoes.
The most beautiful things in the world are round,
so I will celebrate my celestial shape.
poem-overwhelmed February 3, 2016
Stacks of articles, demanding my brain
focus and think logically.
Assignment instructions I just want to avoid.
My students drive me crazy when they show this sentiment.
But then, I’ll actually get the work done
(on time)
despite the procrastination,
which they frequently do not.
So many papers. So tired from report cards and marking stacks of late assignments and prepping for a new semester and February.
So.
Tired.
But the end is in sight.
I can’t give up now.
poem-early spring February 2, 2016
The ground hog says
it will be early spring
but even if he did not,
the blue sky and balmy breeze
today asserted its own opinion.
Shawn L. Bird 