Grunted
he grunted
at me, a series
of snorts
as if I were his
cave girl, tied
to the wall, an
object to be
shared, owned,
then discarded,
so I slipped
out the cave.
Curl
in the corner
you might
have found me
years ago,
a withered being,
a seed, nothing
more than a shell,
but there
was tapping inside,
a being
that burst
and grew.
Movie Night
come over
get some popcorn
and I responded
showered with blanket
as screen images
flickered taught
me what life wanted
to be but was not,
wandering fingers
in the dark
that I kept endlessly
at bay.
Nudges
with tiny nudges
I crept
on to a new home
a new voice
suddenly unquiet,
the tempest inside
me dying down,
a new sense
of calm, nudges
into a new day.
Dreama
she’s the dream
a play on her name
of what I would be
if I were given
life over again,
I braid her hair
and quilt her life,
spelling my own
new future.
Short sentences but a musical meaning…
All of your poems art refreshing and new to the spirit of communications.