Poetry 365

Inspired by Billy Collins' Poetry 180 project, I post one poem per day here, for at least a year. | tags by author or subject | contact me here

Friday, Jan 08th, 2010

He is thinking of us.
These leaves, their lazy rustle

That made us sleepy after lunch
So we had to lie down.

He considers my hand on her breast,
Her closed eyelids eyelids, her moist lips
Against my forehead, and the shadows of trees
Hovering on the ceiling.

It’s been so long. He has trouble
Deciding what else is there.
And all along the suspicion
That we do not exist.