From Mesquite

You report rain daily
and wind and I send
pictures of either dry
dawn or moon and venus
at desert dusk.

You feed the boy chicken
wings hot as his views
I miss his attitudes
no one here can be
argued with.

I woke to a fire alarm
in this hotel too near
las vegas and too far
from your knees rising
out of bubbles.

You make our bed every
morning I know and I
leave this room a mess
to go find the world I
probably won’t.


About mrsorenson

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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s