Monday, January 20, 2014

Noon

At noon, I licked sweet white frosting from my fingertip,
having already forgotten the little grease burn, 
from earlier, on my palm.

Later on,  I will find you sitting at the glass-topped table outside,
in your favorite teak wood chair with the green cushions.
I will run the same finger through your familiar curls,

under a half-stirred sky of light and shadow.

11 comments:

hedgewitch said...

Lucent, subtle, intensely beautiful writing--with descriptions that feel like a breeze on a hot cheek, especially the half-stirred(in so many ways)sky.

TexWisGirl said...

beautiful. sweet and simple and lovely.

Sioux said...

"...half-stirred sky" is brilliant. And beautiful.

HermanTurnip said...

What's funny is I burnt my fingers on a hot coal while camping last week. It's funny how sensitive the burn site became, and I can imagine the heightened sensitivity of a burned finger through a lock of hair...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautiful, and how I would love to have a room of any sort that was all glass and light like that!!!!!!!!!

grapeling said...

if that's noon - what's the rest of the day like? ~

Marcoantonio Arellano said...

recognition of little moments are indicators of a romantic heart

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a perfect sevenling.. all the little components that coalesce to make the whole. How often do we miss them in the rush?

G-Man said...

I'm trying to imagine which curls your fingers are running thru...

myheartslovesongs.com said...

{sigh} lovely!

Mama Zen said...

This stirs every sense. Beautiful.