Okay, so it’s kinda becoming difficult to be creative on the fly since my quarter at PC is drawing to a close. I thought that this week, I’d give someone else the spotlight for Poerty Day.
I ran across Michael Mayo searching for poems and inspiration on the net. He is published and the poem that follows is from a book called All Fall Down published in 1987. Check him out at the link above.
What He Would Not Tell Them
I often wonder, how many ribs does it take
to cage your leonine heart?
When was it we counted them last?
Was it too long ago, or never?
One, two, three…
It really seems odd, darling,
but there appears to be a mistake
Or does my preening tongue’s
slight pressure deceive me?
I don’t know what to make
of it, do you?
And why was it last night,
afterwards, those words,
I love you,
so easily caught in your throat?