Night Shift

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Night Shift

At the dim juncture of the dawn,
my yawn-and-stretch completes
a canvassing of tousled sheets
to find my lover gone.

She showed up late, but didn't stay,
and left with no goodbye,
proving again that she and I
are strangers in the day;

yet, in the dark, we'll reunite
as two amnesiacs
who coalesce like candle wax
that moats a tongue of light.

[storyweaver]

I had to actually log in so I could reply to this one, gee-wiz! Anyway, I wanted to say that your poetry has become very alive lately. It is easier to relate with, more real. Sometimes, before, your writing left me feeling distant from you as a human. It has always been very well crafted--beautiful, but now it 'feels' that way too and that is a great thing! Very nice!
G.

[mfwilkie]

Hey, D,

What if you said:

At the dim juncture we call dawn

and what if you said settle for nestle

yet, in the dark, we reunite
as if amnesiacs
who melt and settle like the wax
that moats the candlelight.

Mags

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Wow, G. Thank you, my friend.

Mags, revision up.