Listen Against Love

Your scent fallen flowers
your voice pressed against me
resembles the passing hours
on mornings missing breakfast
and appointments too stressed
to press on so it sours.

Woke out of a long dream
my daughter was cleaning my house
beyond any recognition so
that it was not home any more.
I left sadly but hoped that she
would stop her roaming and settle.

That’s why on blank page
I wrote couplets of two words
and poured into inscribed goblets
half way up the color of bubbles
to be sipped and swirled then spit
onto the battlefield like courage.

Your patter unheard of
correcting my unstated
tattletale stories from a florid
childhood makes it better.
Long dreams roam and settle.
Couplets end up in the cup.

So far before sun’s crowing
your closeness grows sounding
like approaching weather people
call bad too rashly guessing
at the right word without
listening to love’s thunder.


About mrsorenson

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

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