Nostalgia Waking Poems

Let’s go back in time to the nineteen fifties, Melanie suggested.
How about 1942? Her best friend, a more knowledgeable Tillie protested. 
So they woke up...

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Waking up is dangerous business. 
Killing time, wash the dishes. 
Open the bottle, swallow silence, 
Brainwash the kids, quell defiance. 

Or maybe it’s just me....

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The sun did not rise with me this morning.
The cold, grey mist was there
Embracing all the places
We had been the night before.

The music, too, was...

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Waking up this morning,
Gazing out the window,
into a pink and orange abyss.
A brand new day.

I wrap myself in the warmth
Of my housecoat,
Coat my throat with...

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Waking up at dawn
with incandescent lights
on my subdued frawn...
receding to warm sheets;
recognizing the petrel's flight
with the hawks pursuing it in delight,
while spiders hang on dusty...

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How do your eyes catch me 
those sleepy wee hours 
I stir you 
as a watercolor caricature 
picking through our dismembered socks, 
and shirts that...

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In bubble thought
I wrote by words
of my round-glassy head
and closed my eyes.
 To my surprise
I saw a vintage
picture—a cover to a book
I’d closed for years.

	To...

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