Warm sunny Sunday
Come sit, my darling
You are yellow and blue but not afraid, not sad
Together we dent the couch, sinking in
You’re so close, I breathe you. My heart’s a balloon, filling, stretching.
Pick who you want to talk to
I ask you to give us some words, if you can. Are they light inside you today, effervescing at the top of your throat?
“Yes,” soft and fragile, floats like a bubble.
Finger crooked over the letters, darting: where are they? Don’t lose the word, quick. I’m breathless waiting for the connection.
Fingertip to key,
Words to me.
2 comments
Absolutely beautiful Susan, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Thanks, Kim! You, too! 🙂