A couple sat on a park bench,
Too far from me
To hear.
She put her hand
Upon his leg,
And I thought he was going to cry.
She left.
Dust
Motes of dust
My daughter saw
And asked,
"What kind of light
Is that
That sparkles?"
As a ray of sunshine
Fell upon the floor.
"Just dust?"
She asked
At my reply,
"Just dust,"
I repeated.
She turned
And I
Watched her
As the wonder
Faded
From her eye.
Just dust.
Poet
One told me
My poems hurt her.
I didn't apologize.
Another begged me
Not to write about her.
I didn't respond.
A third read about us in bed
And asked,
Isn't anything sacred?
I was honest.
I said, no.
Bitch
She had a moat
Around her heart,
Deep.
Filled with things that had
Teeth,
And no bridges crossed it.
I went to the edge,
Knowing full well
The danger of falling in,
And looked over the side anyway.
There were no survivors there.
The water looked
Warm and inviting.
I could see what drew men there.
I don't have to tell you
What happened
Next.
