Scatterbrain

Scatterbrain

It was your voice, darling, rising from below
that brought me to the balcony. Lock the safe.
I do not know how to leave a room on vacation?
Lingering there, I watched you reach your chair

as someone paddled out to a then cresting wave.
Watched him ride it to a shore near your feet.
Some manner of dance session on the beach
caught my attention before I grabbed my towel.

Leaving, halfway down the hall, I remembered --
returning to 409 as the elevator arrived and left.
Without even trying to do it you show me. Always.
The three words I owe you tonight, duly earned.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2012 --

Birds

 
Birds

One thing about birds.
Not a one of them smiles.
Not ever.

Yet, give me wings
and I imagine my face ripping
off from the smiling alone.

Not to mention the wind itself
hollowing out my jowls
as I swoop and dive

defying what I know about gravity
in a macabre smile
thinking thoughts

no bird, anywhere, has
ever thunk.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2012 --

Contagious

Contagious

Again, the best day, yesterday, happened not.
Will Shakespeare would have fashioned it thus
as a grinning lover leaned forward to hear of it.
He would switch around those last two words --
creating a scenario less tragic. Adding a sense
of poetry -- diverting thoughts of rats and plague.

Truth dimmed via language. This, I allow, is a gift.
In keeping, as a curtain rises on a morrow's sun,
two words regarding your own talent warrant a bow.
My dear, I have caught from you a wanted disease.
An ever unfurrow'ed brow upon what shall come
after a shared breakfast. Your optimism infects me.

- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2012 --

Papers

Papers

I shudder to think how different things might have been.
Leaving the office five seconds later, everything ruined.
A slower elevator. A last minute phone call. A Friday off.

Thoughts on the weekend, I ran to my car, coat-whipped.
Glancing, I saw you fight with those papers, one caught.
Another, winding towards me, I grabbed without thinking.

Holding it, I watched you leave the earth several times.
Somehow you snatched up all the others, with a grace.
I walked over, handing you the most errant of them all.

You pulled a lovely shock of brunette away, to thank me.
Tonight, twenty years later, hands in that hair, I whisper.
We thank God for many things -- I thank Him for the wind.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2012 --