NaPoWriMo mo' catch up 22 thru 24 April

A catchup day again: too much homework that needed to be fine-tuned, a lovely production Death of a Salesman to go see, and quite a bit of reading for lit. And after the last poem a song...

Toothpaste  22 April

Gravity protection.

Olive, emerald, lime  23 April

The front door blind hiding day;
sunrise through willows;
the County Fair’s painted cinderblocks;
just baled alfalfa;
John Deere tractor in the barn’s yawn;
sparrows stealing gooseberries;
1974’s crushed-velvet pantsuit;
rhubarb leaves unfolding;
my sister’s eye-shadow;
hummingbirds over honeysuckle;
shadows hitting stained glass;
deep water all the way to lake bottom.

Love survives 24 April

                        It’s the mundane:
the carpet path tread at midnight
a baby slung like wet laundry across
your shoulder, your tongue shush, shushing
as you pace.

                        The need for ceremony:
a song sung each bedtime
the hug that has risen from a hip squeeze
to a chin that brushes your head
as good night is whispered.

                           We turn our backs
after our final words, content
to wrestle quilts until we sleep
and then find that all through
the night legs are touching,
hands have found each other
like mating birds, fingers nesting
in the other’s palm.