August 24, 2012

poem 282 of a poem a day for 2012

carrying a lantern of desperation  

between the doorbell ringing
and you singing in the shower
the quiet steps
on the double berber rug
to mask its intruder’s gain
of the second floor
you strain beneath the water
cascading in its manufactured
soft spread against your skin
and a fleeting thought enters
like a winged insect
a thought of hard water minerals
being good for you
or at least might have been
before the proliferation of antibiotics
changed our immune systems
but then that thought drifts away
and the quiet returns
stealing down the hallway
from where you left
the door slightly ajar
the radio is on downstairs
and Chopin’s nocturne is playing
streets chum their veins
with the exhausts
that race the red to green lights
outside the old glass
still wanting
in its slow tide
to fall back as sand
you brush pat the water
beading against your skin
and wrap yourself in terry
peer out the window
and see the quiet
the yellow glow
is everywhere
clinging to
where humanity goes
to find itself
when leaving
the doors alone

EJR © 

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