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Wicker-Back Afternoon
January 27, 2009
I sat in the wicker-back
chair, guitar chords slipping out
between my fingers,
steel strings scratching.
'
Tuscan flowers
twisting in place on the backsplash
under the sun '
I felt its drowsiness
limp on my neck,
rays that aren't seeking
anything new
but that's just fine.
You talk, I listen, we'll see the sun
feeding flowers ' blue ones
arching their backs
under a golden sky, and soon the
whole world will
slide
away to
sleep together.
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