Wednesday, April 25, 2012

3WW: Bloody, Kinky, Tender

There is only one
little smear
of morning sunlight
left on my kitchen floor.  

I woke up too late
to enjoy a couple hours
of solitude.

He's already making
awake noises
so this will have to be
a quick poem.  

Too bad I can't think
of anything
to write about.  

No bloody emotions
lately. No kinky past-
times to secretly enjoy.
My days have been

unusually soft and tender
like a mound  
of bread dough

we've been kneading
and kneading and, finally,
it can rest and rise. And I think
he's even fallen back to sleep.

11 comments:

Old Egg said...

I am glad he did. You got to finish the poem!

Daydreamertoo said...

LOL...Sometimes blessings happen when we least expect them :)

rallentanda said...

I always enjoy that softness and tenderness in your poems
'a smear of sunlight' charactises
your work,no matter what the subject.

rallentanda said...

oops.. characterises

Andy Sewina said...

Love the commentary here!

Unknown said...

Mmm, i love the quietness of this poem.

Jae Rose said...

Isn't the kitchen an important place..I am glad the sun fell on you there and gave you time to write..if only there was a word to best describe not having an emotion..it seems like a feeling in and of itself..too important not to have a name..Jae

Sheilagh Lee said...

oh this so sweet.

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

I enjoyed your poem. :)

brenda w said...

I just happened across your blog, Linda, while surfing this morning. This poem is so lovely! I truly enjoyed the read.

MirandaN said...

Great post, much appreciate the time you took to write this.

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