By, Sandra Monday

Your shoulders are striking;

Pastel slender ensconced in deep red velvet.

Light streams in the high window

Where pink azaleas sit in a beer mug .

Your aroma, earthy yet flowery at once assails me.

To my left a porcelain babe curls into my milk filled breast

Her ebony eyelashes fluttering like a Cupie doll’s.

Rolling over,

I kiss each orange freckle on your back.

While the fetus turns in my womb like an afterthought.

A hard piece of fruit presses from me into

Your lumbar; as if to touch its father, a live wire, a power source;

Hooking itself into your spine.

At our feet a black cat with relaxed yellow eyes

Rumbles; as an old 1980’s Buick Cadillac warming on a frosty morning.

Outside are the faint sounds of mallards quacking and splashing

While the pointy billed Ibis search for insects

And I muse to myself

Never did I dream that such a little slice of heaven

Could ever be here on Earth,

In my lifetime,

And I am simply, inexorably, unabashedly , completely  


February 2013

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