Tuesday, August 29, 2006

60/24/7-30/12

minutes hours days months
years go by

i chew on my thoughts at breakfast
and wash them down with coffee
no cream.

i clean with mop, pail and
pine smells to mask sour regrets


set the table

the food plentiful
the conversation, spare.

check the doors, the lights, the cat

turn down cool sheets
and imagine the shape, the feel
the scent of you.



2 comments:

QUASAR9 said...

Sherry

some lucky guy in
some lucky guy in Pittsburgh
doesn't know ...
doesn't know what he's missing

Sherry Pasquarello said...

oh, some poems are not autobiographical. they are bits and pieces of other's lives and mine. stored memories and empathic vibes.
i write most of my poems to be personalized by each reader. it's surprising the different takes i receive from people.
this poem can lead to weaving an entire life from the bits here. all of the whys of it. i'm pleased you liked this.