we sit at the round table

smaller than

instead of that square one

catch up

quickly

on what her kids have done

ordering lunch ,

nervous laughs settle us down

talk of how time in years

passes

her and me

yesteryears

love story.

scenes of her between bites

distraction from ear to ear

today's dress for success

can't hide

my fondness

of what once was

a hot mess.

i fail to mention that police song

my song of her and me

on the radio driving over

sting

never sounding better.

plates almost clean

we smile,

our eyes touch

some water drunk

an hour ends with a hug

kiss on the cheek

she walks her way

i walk mine

i peek

Comments

richzombie May 5, 2012 @ 2:10 p.m.

R2 - every little thing she does is magic -

0

Ruth Newell May 5, 2012 @ 5:45 p.m.

Ah--of course it is--would be. It seems to always come down to the M word. Why is this so hard for us as men and women, I wonder? All we ever want is to love and be loved in return and a marriage of souls is something above and beyond any ceremonial words or rings or written covenants. Yet its those things that seem to trip the best of lovers up every time. Such a shame. Everything else seems to be semantics that we use to punish ourselves as if we are somehow undeserving. And the god given gift of true love all too often wasted/squandered. Nothing is real other than THE LOVE--at least, for me that's all that matters--not a single thing else. But, I'm an avowed freebird (free being the operative word) and have been alone most of my life so admittedly I don't know much. Glad your re-connection went comfortably. Guess that means you finally did return the call. Happy for you. :)

0

nan shartel May 5, 2012 @ 11:08 a.m.

this is a deep hold ur breath poem RZ...i like it a lot

0

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