Bucked My Toe Without Being Aware
I don't suppose I ever did get an opportunity to look at you –
to take a picture of it all. Maybe there is a poem lingering,
lurking somewhere - already collected in brain and bone marrow.
Maybe I'll write it tomorrow.
Yesterday's session was fun. Did you enjoy it?
You did brighten up the room with your yellow skirt.
How sassy those high shoes made you seem.
You even avoided addressing me
like a student in high school.
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
4:49 p.m. 27.07.09
I don't suppose I ever did get an opportunity to look at you –
to take a picture of it all. Maybe there is a poem lingering,
lurking somewhere - already collected in brain and bone marrow.
Maybe I'll write it tomorrow.
Yesterday's session was fun. Did you enjoy it?
You did brighten up the room with your yellow skirt.
How sassy those high shoes made you seem.
You even avoided addressing me
like a student in high school.
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
4:49 p.m. 27.07.09
posted by Obie Quiet at 4:52 PM
1 Comments:
I always smile when I read your poems especially those for me.
The poem seems to be a poetic monologue. The two lines of third and/or final stanza sounds a lot like a greeting, specifically a goodbye.
Thank you Obi.
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