Serendipity

Serendipity

When I first came across the word serendipity
in a novel, I started looking for it. Non sequitur.
One of those things you can't find, by looking.
But, last day of Farmer's Market, stiff with cold
I wandered the stalls, reaching for a basket.
Dusty blueberries.
What potent of Fate made you reach
as I did, for that very collection?

There is no answer to that question.
But others, other questions, do have answers.
What would a blueberry, bitten 'mid your lips
taste like, saliva-mingled?
I know the answer to that. I know now that the Earth
from a distance is still as blue, no matter the clouds.
You broke through everything in my atmosphere
that night, when we added the whipped cream.

 Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Stranded

Stranded

All this talk about cart-before-the-horse.
Everyone knows the phrase, and uses it.
All but the animal itself.
No one asks if he ever had better ideas.
Done properly or not, he ends up in front of it
every time.

It's true, I got to know your body long before
I knew much about your soul.
But welcome to modern times. In this world
we forget about oil changes. Driving.
Texting while we do it. No thought to the engine
-- until stranded at the roadside.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Designated Day

Designated Day

The furthest thing from my mind a year ago, [no, last month] -- was any thought associated with the idea that we would have to coordinate a time for my presence when you were absent. But such is the business of cohabitation, and its demise.
Resorting to others to manipulate that very window of untogetherness, I arrived to retrieve my stuff. Our [your?] cat greeted me, rubbing against my leg. 
Force of habit, I locked the door behind me, and knelt. Usually, his treats were in order -- so I went to the cupboard, where I found your note:
"Just get your things. And go."
In italics. No x's or o's behind it.
Slipping the key under the door when I was done, my eyes were closed.
And everything -- the hallway, my clothes, the suitcase you left open for me to put them in, the inside of my car, the clouds in the sky -- smelling like you.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

The Surfacing Book Club

The Surfacing Book Club

We read a lot. Past tense and present.
First person and third. Fiction and non.
-- Sounds crazy but it esn't.
We do seasonal things, for instance on

Hallowe'en, a scary book. Christmas,
some children's lit. Over 500 in the tank.
You may ask, Can I join it? Is this
an option? No. [Two members to thank]

Some things are better left to a minimum.
We have more than enough discussion
between us. Kindred spirits. -- Umm…
No agenda. Quite a repertoire. No rushin'.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Halloween

Halloween

My memories of Halloween are of small-town nights.
Fear was entirely invented. It was only about candy.
The only chaperone was a distant dog barking --
 -- and you knew whose dog it was.

Time, inexorable as it is, sometimes changes things.
In this case, I think it sad to picture a parent curbside.
Foot-tapping while "Trick or Treat" is cried.
Have we evolved to this?

My God, we used to run from house to house, unfettered.
More abandon than any actual ghost could have mustered.
Midnight we'd gobble our treasures, frothy-mouthed. 
Laughing quietly, to not wake the sleeping down below.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Whales Were Talking

Whales Were Talking

Who knows where dreams come from?
During last night's feature film, offstage me
was clutching a pillow -- probably sweating.
Eyes darting under the lids. Even in sleep,
trying to understand something.

Onstage, two gargantuan beasts floated.
The grace, like two candle flames in a world
where fire cannot live, swam.
I heard every strange oscillation, last night.
Only later, waking, did I interpret the message:

We expend our entire lives in an attempt
to stay as far away as possible -- [pause]
from anything that is in need of -- [twirl…]
a geographically determined alphabet --
-- [dive] to communicate, one with another.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --