Poetry Wednesday

Dawning

There was a jar of milk on the counter

   when I woke up

(you were close, but I could not see you,

the milk was frothy, and you had poured it)

                all alone

and the quiet door

                and the sound it usually makes

                                getting smaller

I remembered all of my dreams.

A stone house shaken by a

little wind

A woman who looks like my mother

taking her rings off in the

corner.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

Excerpts from Your Time Has Come

by Joshua Beckman

A new boat sleeps in that place

each night.

The current there must be mild.

To watch you open

and to know you'll open and close again.

All is flora.

It felt so good 

to get my sunburn,

but now I've got it.

Flying a kite

off his roof--

I'm worried he'll fall.