In My Pocket
Springtime curls up inside my pocket
and rides close to my heart
awaiting
scrambled eggs by candlelight
and
pretty ribbons woven about the riddle
of you and me.
Somewhere between riotous winds bending
tree spines
and
frozen colors rattling my windows,
I grew wise enough to know
that
when lilac scented breath wanders
about my sleepy eyelashes,
you’ll be home to fill my empty pocket.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
