Saturday, May 10, 2008

To An Old Lover In Egypt

I read you are in Egypt,
and I am jealous.
I see you standing under the sun of Ra,
squinting your blue eyes at the timeless horizon.
Do you think of me, and my flesh,
While you dust ancient bones?
Does Aida still echo through the Memphis temple?
Once when we lay together,
I was afraid you would go away to Alaska
Alaska big and white.
I never saw you in Egypt
but it seems like you now.
I can see your fine brown skin
covered with the sweat of Ramses.
Do the women of Cairo or Alexandria
suit you?
You are a walking puzzle
and now you match your outside.
Kiss the sphinx for me,
and smile back at her
like you used to in your sleep.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

What Days May Come

What days may come,
to keep us far apart.
What good is a dream,
when it breaks your heart?
Time moves along
always so very slow
and I wonder where our path
will go.
I don't know why
and can't begin to say
but I need your arms around me
at the closing of the day.
You have a hold on me,
like the full moon pulls
upon the tide.
I wait and keep looking
for the brighter side.
Yet every night I lay down alone
and realize
you're never coming home.
There's a crown of feathers
on the pillow where your
head used to lie.
I feel your arms around me
as the stars begin to rise.
But then I realize
it's only the ghost of your