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“For all sad words of tongue and pen,

The saddest are these,

'It might have been'.”

John Greenleaf Whittier



Tongue and Pen



I drag myself by the tongue

to the window of my soul

just to capture

a few syllables of verse.

I think of Dante

Brownings, Sexton,

Gibran, And Brautigan.

But my thoughts

always return to you.



I imagine you soaking

in a hot tub of my words,

seducing vowels

in the azure night as

though they were

your lovers.

You tread the steamy

waters and look up

with piercing eyes.



Ah, if only my verses could

come quickly, easily,

then I would not have to

stand at this window

for so long,

just to catch one glance

from that splendid man

I have come to know as you.