Thursday

Max as the Cadbury bunny

the sky
is a pale bruised canvas
for a convalescent
sun, and the cat
and i lie up
against the space

heater, waiting
for the watery
light of late afternoon
to wander in
through the upstairs
windows. i

am thinking bare-legged
thoughts, dreaming
of sand. he dislikes
the lilac candle,
the smell
of the old coffee.

today is too cold
for outside poems.
even the flies
that settle on
the unborn bodies
of outside poems

are sluggish,
and the cat bats
them down easy.
looking out, we see
power lines and bare
branches over pastel

rooftops. he does
his best cadbury
pose, breaks
my concentration
before the concrete
of the words has set,

leaves his imprint
in their wake.
fitting that it’s three
nights til Easter.
some days we wish
it were May already.

15 thoughts on “Thursday

  1. Love the feel of this poem. I am drawn into the surreal drift of spring fever, the languor of an overlong winter. Love the line: breaks my concentration before the concrete of the words has set” Delightful! Hurry up summer!

  2. Well done, this is beautifully executed, it slowed me right down:

    “even the flies
    that settle on
    the unborn bodies
    of outside poems
    are sluggish,
    and the cat bats
    them down easy.”

    PS: I was brought here by “Mirror Obscura”

Thoughts?

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s