You would think that
with so many thoughts,
roaring and unsettled,
like a boomerang of lighning bolts,
I would find the words
to write to you,
to answer to your wailing,
to your wanting more than a lover friend,
more than I think I can cope with.
I sit cross legged -
dancing in space,
on a wooden floor,
above the neighbour
with the howling horse dog.
Her guitar strums loud
and exuberant song words
pop through the radiator,
transmitting energy
that feeds my plants.
I feel so small in a space so large.
The ceiling hides the sky -
blocks the milky way.
I play with the grain of the wood
on the floor that keeps
me from falling
into your grasp,
into real days of fantasy-
fantastic nights I could only dream of.
I found a journal hiding
and in it lovely handwriting
flowing with graceful emotion
in splendid sumplicity.
She writes haikus for her lover.
I want to give you such words.
Please accept my silence
for the moment.
As this February morning folds around me
and the sunlight struggles
to cast its warm beam of pleasure,
I know that the words will come.
And for now,
I will give you a picture.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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