Short Leavings Poems

tracks and rain
the leaving

leaving and rain
the track that takes you
now in winter

a winter of leavings

a rain of tracks
now the rain
the rain...

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DON’T UNDERSTAND
SMILES FADE, LAUGHTER DIES!
SADNESS,SURROUNDS ME,
SURROUNDING YOU?
LOVES LEAVINGS OF NEED
DRIFT INTO THE VOID 
WE CALL TOMORROW .
WHERE ARE THE DREAMS
THAT ONCE FILLED OUR DAYS?
DO THEY STILL HAUNT US?
OR DID THEY JUST GO AWAY...

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Along the alleys of my old village
a squalid dog followed me
flee-bitten, rabbit-faced

Give me some leavings, he whined
just a bit of left-over heart
I am starving to death.

I was coming from the poultry shop
so I gave him some chicken giblets.
He said, Now you are mine

since I ate your heart 
and he always, always follows me
ill-fated me!...

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Inspired by the write of you
creamed through a paper sieve to cup
with both hands the leavings that you trail
 the write of you

like the chewed edge of hand pressed paper
like the apostrophe of lash on the cheeky page
I ogle the syncopated semen-antic drop of
 the write of you

how often does the wonder of you flash
across the film of my eyes unable reach
for I am so enchanted with the coffee-au-lait
 write of you...

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The cake was sitting too close to the steak
The steak was done well, which was a mistake
The cake began melting, and the candles fell off
Worse yet, said grandma, your uncle gave it a cough

We had been digging around in the leavings by then
Scooping up frosting and pieces, my heart and my kin.
The prissy ones stopped, which left more for the rest of us.
We are Tennessee hillbillies who get around in a bus....

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Before dawn, I press my palm
on the windowpane,
leaning gently into the night
feeling it slipping through
cold fingertips.

Later
when sipping coffee I glance out,
there are shedding's now,
fragments and scraps,
a littering of a flimsy
day breaking light.

I wonder how so great a thing
as the deeply fathomed dark
could be lost in its leavings?

My hand wants to say
something more of this
but its bones are sleeping
and cannot now be reused....

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She lingers on the edge of warmth
savoring a cooling kiss
weakened as the distance grew
wondering – how’d it come to this.

Why does she long for distant shores
soft touch of newer, fresher winds
why must her shadows slowly fade
to dark beneath horizon’s bend.

As maples shed blood toned wardrobes
migrating lover’s dot the sky
she feels no pangs or leavings angst
for love’s not love when lovers cry.


©10/23/2019

OCTOBER SUN Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - sponsor...

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