The First Poem
The first poem
I am a woman in mid life now.
finding myself pensive and reflective.
Working in my flower garden
on a sunny Sunday morning.
Then a poem pulls up in the driveway.
Driving a red mustang convertible.
I remember this car.
And this beautiful poem.
It wants me to unbutton my shirt
and unhook my bra.
I sit in the still familiar back seat.
The poem recites it's soft downy words.
The ones from a lifetime past.
I notice I have taken
all my clothes off for this poem.
I look like a white pale statue.
I notice the reflection
of my naked self.
so desirable so hot.
I still have it I feel it
I know it.
Afterwards
the poem and I
talk of Forevers
and marraige
and other untruths
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