Ordinary Sunday Morning

a spring storm sputters from the blue,
dancing on bathroom tiles, and I know
as foggy dream yields to hazy reality
you have already answered daybreak
for your Sunday morning shower.

you sigh and coo in blissful oblivion
and doves take flight up my spine.

your hairdryer yawns into action
as you hum a backing tune
while I sing the lead in my head,
lying in our bed, one knee crocked,
staring out the window to horizon as
cotton candy slowly trades
back and forth with blue.

I act as if asleep as you reenter
our bedroom, shadow falling upon me
like the world’s warmest blanket,
failing in your efforts to move silently.

“Stop faking,” you admonish gently,
and despite myself, I lose a snicker.

on occasion of an ordinary
spring Sunday, well before noon,
sneaking a peak, there you were, uncovered,
and upon widening my eyes to drink you in,
every depth, contour, and Venus dimple
of treasures previously beyond conception
came into focus from eastern daybreak.

“What?” you ask through wry grin,
as if you could not possibly know.

but you do know.

Written for NaPoWriMo Day 25 Prompt:

“Our prompt for today (optional, as always) is to write an “occasional” poem. What’s that? Well, it’s a poem suited to, or written for, a particular occasion. This past January, lots of people who usually don’t encounter poetry got a dose when Amanda Gorman read a poem at President Biden’s inauguration. And then she followed it up with a poem at the Superbowl (not traditionally an event associated with verse!) The poem you write can be for an occasion in the past or the future, one important to you and your family (a wedding, a birth) or for an occasion in the public eye (the Olympics, perhaps?).”

NaPoWriMo Day 25 Prompt

So You Still Wanna Know About That Dream

where we never knew how to let go

with all Midnight Plains a playground
we crammed into each other’s airspace
as if we’d implode from any separation
licking our past from our lips
compressing present between thighs
hearing the future grunt from our core

soaked in milky-way sky and malbec  
unlocking French on flannel sheets
Great Divide traversed before dawn
and dew drops kissed our skin

we writhed, undeterred by chill of fog

we wore our own tropical high
melting Olympic glaciers upon release

us furious lovers; us selfish givers

when I awoke, tangled in your absence
wisdom made for poor company.

Written for NaPoWriMo Day 23 Prompt:

“Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that responds, in some way, to another. This could be as simple as using a line or image from another poem as a jumping-off point, or it could be a more formal poetic response to the argument or ideas raised in another poem. You might use a favorite (or least favorite poem) as the source for your response. And if you’re having trouble finding a poem to respond to, here are a few that might help you generate ideas: “This World is Not Conclusion,” by Peter Gizzi, “In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever,” by Wanda Coleman, “La Chalupa, the Boat,” by Jean Valentine, or “Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm,” by Carl Phillips.”

NaPoWriMo Day 23 Prompt

I responded to “In That Other Fantasy Where We Live Forever,” by Wanda Coleman.