- Non-Erotic Poetry
- weight
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Click herehow the wind prods
each window
longs for heat's sweet kiss
they meet beneath the door
in open secret
of adultery
the odd mutter
of vegetables huddled on the sideboard
waiting to be chopped
that black apron
hung slack on hook
lacks all memory of her body
and i count
still the steady tread
of our quiet kitchen's clock
- COMMENTS
KOLKOREabout 16 years agoI respect my fellow readers but I felt no loss or loneliness here. It felt to me like a moment of quiet observation. If anything I was reminded of Vermeer painting which reflects vivid life even in inanimate objects.
PandoraGlittersabout 16 years agoI really like how the setting of this becomes the poem: a landscape of loneliness in a place meant for nurture.
LeBrozover 16 years agoFine collection of snippets from a kitchen scene engenders strong feelings of loneliness and loss.
