Out the narrow gate of seeming
past the hinged door that secures
steps do not lead but spread away
from our bricked establishment
through gardens intermediate
to where anything can be said
to where the imminent happens.

A shower is never enough
good as it is bordering on clean
to wash off aftermath of dreams
like clouds on my mountainous
stable and snaking imagination
it will happen again when
the consumed sun greets us.

Sometimes like you exemplified
in that line about you on the pier
peering into the then-what out-there
you know it before you say it
other times you say and then you
and your mouth later come to know
what the saying was all about.

We like to dine early lingering
in scented conversation leaving
an appreciated savored table
going out to pass through
the seeming. Door, garden,
street, mapped home, lit
questions starting to poem.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in love, poem, poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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