National Poetry Month – Day 27

I have an idea for a new poem but didn’t have a chance to work on it today. So here’s a real old one. I put this in my chapbook Naked Wrists which came out in 1997.

Legends

weathered pages between soft leather
a sameness that soothes
words that return joy after borrowing
tropical beat that drips sweetly
like pineapple juice refreshing with laughter
sexy senoritas in fitted skirts with beautiful hands
four stories above sleet, a lonely woman
sings a soft blues to her sleeping child
I said four stories above sleet, this lonely woman
coos a cool blues to her sleepy child
her voice a living lullaby

I am a little bit in love with everyone I know
because each gives me hallelujah for my offerings
northsoutheastwest
earthairfirewater
personal healer kept in green bottles
& lingering scent from new matches
intimacy translated into gesture
moving hair away from my ear
to share confidences of lifetimes ago
before we knew we’d already met

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