Remember
Remember when we never
combed our hair? Or thought
to eat?
When darkness smelled like
water lilies mixed with everything
but light?
Nothing could
wait.
You were every bit
an astronaut.
I was
just past sky.
.
Month: April 2012
Traffic
I saw you
walking home late
afternoon. Maybe
after dinner
at
your mother’s.
Looking right.
Then left. Before
crossing to close the last
block.
I wonder, if she served
mashed potatoes.
Your mother.
If she knew
the wind
was not the first, today
to sift your curls.
Kiss
your cheek.