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Tom's Poetry |
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Poem for really serious thingsher laughas the sandwich guy makes a joke the warmth in my cheeks of something almost jealousy the light reflected in her eye the serious way she eats her hair falling forward then her eyes peacefully closed, brushing it back behind her ear 1. a day in the woods she, beside a tree flowers in the air the way her shoulder holds a dress the rabbit that comes to sniff her hand as she rests in the grass the curl of her soft fingers as they gently caress the delicate fur the pleasure she takes in stretching her neck her sleepy way of rolling in the grass 2. when our love was still only secret desire in our hearts the way I hated myself for days and weeks when I failed to hold the door for her waiting at the library at 2pm knowing she'd come to read the Times the 3rd time she laughed at me: "Are you still here?" 3. the nights when I meet her at a corner and we walk beside the shops to find perhaps a meal a bench on the sidewalk the way we talk for hours forgetting to eat the way I'm lost in her eyes and she in mine when she steps away for a moment her coat over a chair makes me feel that all is well how close we feel when we share our fries the sensuality of drinking from her straw her sheepish grin when the woman at the table next to us tells us she can feel electricity in the air her fingertip on top of mine 4. the way she takes me shopping and pulls my arm to steer me in a store her keen eye for the elegant hidden among souvenirs the covert thrill of choosing lingerie with her how she prods for my opinion and I say she should try it on and show me her secret pleasure that I should flirt with her the knowing look in the salesperson's eyes 5. discovering she'd leave at summer's end asking her to a play a silly old romantic comedy the night coming slowly down along the wooded path how we walked so slowly we almost stopped the outdoor theatre the nearby vineyard the stars the breeze too careful to preserve it all we sat in silence the way we sat so close I smelled perfume how I'd stare at her with her eyes in the stars how she'd look back and I'd look away how she'd stare till I looked at her again summer's end: she hates goodbyes 6. the highway speeding by like in a movie in a rental car the autumn colors chilly wind I drive six hours to surprise her in the library 2pm she isn't there the hollow ringing of her phone leafless trees mimic the bareness of my heart 7. alone at her parent's home she watches out the window the haphazard path of a dog grazing down the street somewhere between the glass and the ground her eyes play out a fantasy somewhere from across the sky arms come to hold her tight the bushweeds gently rocking as clouds fill the sky the way lonely moments speak to you of someone dear the sad rising and falling of her chest the way one hand holds the other wishing one of them were someone else the rain falling an early twilight the long century of an afternoon spent reflecting on someone far away how she pulls her pillow close how a tear slowly falls and slowly dries 8. coming back, the note she finds under her door the way she jumps when she sees that it's from me the phone call I get saying Tom, come back to see me one more time I promise to be here for you every inflection of her voice every nuance in her expression like dewdrops on my thirsty lips 9. the unrelenting joy I feel at seeing her again the rose between my nervous fingers her smile and the helpless way she climbs into my arms ~ (C) 11/21-11/22/96 Tom Brinck ACCESSIBILITY FEATURES / SITEMAP / CONTACT |
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Poetry