Just when you're sure
the moon isn't going to fall
and no parallel universe
will open, with the indians
and the buffalo wandering beneath
unpolluted skies once again,
he walks back into your life,
spins it around.
He kisses your mouth,
suckles your breasts
and carries you to where
pain can no longer follow,
to where those crazy lovesick
swallows from Capistrano
fold wings around you,
and the juke plays oldies
all night.
Pris Campbell
(c)2006
(Thanks everyone, for your concern. I'm better, but still really weak and goofy with this cold)
5 comments:
Thanks, Ellen.
B said you'd been sick. I didn't realize it was a cold, too. Yes, this does linger, doesn't it??
There's not a parallel universe??? Oh my!! wonder who the hell I've been talking to lately?? Great poem!! There's been a cold bug going around up here for several months. I caught it the first of August and didn't kick it until after Labor Day. Everybody I know that's had it is the same way. Hang in there!!
Thanks, Pat...and of course there's a parallel universe. Yes Yes. I would never betray your beliefs that way lol
You had this darn cold, too? It has me so darn weak it's hard to type, but if I don't try to do something with my blog everybody's gonna wander off into that other universe and read somebody's blog named sirp .
Thanks, Helen
wonderful images in this one - love it!
hope you get well soon!
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