Alphabet Soup Minuscule

The Laundry Maid

Toss it in a can

Love is like a cigarette,
At first touch you are apprehensive,
Yet, you hold on to it and try.
You inhale small amounts at first,
As you press softly between your coral lips.
It feels different, incredible.

Then over time it become mundane,
You feel sick, undesirable.
That appealing feeling goes away with each drag.
The filter comes off on those lips,
So, you put it out.
Toss it in a can.
Then walk away.

Come Tomorrow

Come tomorrow,
There will be a little less time.
Less time for us to learn,
To just be partners,
Memorizing every face,
And every laugh and worry that walks across it.
As if it were a lake that just had a rock skimmed across it.

Come tonight,
I will tuck myself in.
And let dreams take me,
I will whimper like a puppy in my sleep.
And each of my pillows will have names,
Though they won’t carry yours.
As there will be less time to try and figure us out.

Come tomorrow,
When the cardinals wake me with their voice.
I will make my coffee and sip it.
And I will close my eyes as I feel the heat of it run down my throat.
My gray sweater will pull me close,
As I put on my winter coat
And drive to that little school.
Where my children will greet me.
They will smile, their dirty smiles.
Yet, I won’t think of you.
Because there will be less time with reading and planning.
Come tomorrow.

Single Tune

Here I lay, on my back.
The soft grass kisses the underside of me.
I look up towards the sky,
I don’t see any stars,
The constellations have been boxed up,
They have been put away in a dusty closet somewhere.
Like me, they desire to be seen, and found.
They long to tell their stories, and share their hymns.

Yet, here I lay,
On the ground that is still frozen from winters breathe.
I don’t hear the spring birds chirping.
I don’t see them making nests for their young.
Like me, they are confident in the here, and now.
No rush to fly south.
Yet, I long to hear their songs and admire their flight.

I ponder getting up,
My body wet and my mind full of “I wish”.
You don’t see the light in my eyes.
Or listen to the records in my heart.
Your mind is filled with yesterday.
And I, a single chorus waiting to be played.

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