April is National Poetry Month and my magnificent friend Amy is encouraging us to take 5 minutes every Friday over breakfast and just jot down a poem. Please feel free to join us!
Woke to the stillness of a cold morning,
covered in cats and a blanket of missing
Lying in a bed of jumbled sheets and humbled
knowing- I am now a we.
The small gestures live bigger in your absence.
Who will make the bed, take out the trash, or
let our cat make a permanent home in their lap?
But more than that I miss-
the good morning greetings as you fumble to the shower,
how you maddeningly eat pistachios,
a cluster perched upon your belly,
as we watch television,
the way you holler “hola!” when I walk in the door
even though you do not speak any Spanish,
the way you insist on saying “I love you” and kissing me goodnight.
It’s just that when I look at you
and you look at me,
I am home.
And because I love poetry so much, here’s one of my favorites by one of my favorites:
you shall above all things be glad and young.
For if you’re young, whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever’s living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man’s
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think, may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies, the foetal grave
called progress, and negations dead undoom.
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance