Shawn L. Bird

Your limbs

spill from silken sheets

shimmering in the glimmer

of morning squeezing between

window slats,

striping you like a convict,

but I am your prisoner.

Your lips

curl as you murmur,

conversing with lovers

in your dreams,

Your hips

burrow deeply

on the rhythm of your sighs

and I long to lie beside you,

lingering in the light,

but as dawn drives day

so must I away.

.

.

An aubade is a French leaving poem.  It’s the opposite of a serenade, and is the song of a lover leaving his beloved in the morning.  I’d never heard of the form before, and on the same day, I discovered it by accident (when I looked up a French lingerie company by the name and the definition came up) I found an aubade in the WordPress poetry feed.  Quite a coincidence!  Here is my first one.  I should add, that I am unlikely to ever write one from experience, since generally I’m going to bed at dawn, while my husband is getting up! 😉