PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[after Ground's poem, "Socked"]

(for Lady Certainly, whenever she is ready)

With the precision aim
of her stilleto heels;
and carefully avoiding
any stain to her starched,
slack uniform, long ago
she crushed my desire,
even my joy in desire,
and especially my anticipation
of joy
in desire,
claiming it was written in the stars, long ago.

You:  you say
that the stars cannot be read,
only observed and appreciated;
that they are inspirers
and subjects
of poems they cannot, and will not, recite
(despite the claims of charlatans
and mouthward misogynistic men
with blades to sharpen and swing in autumn fogs)
Then I hear the quiet "drop" and "drop"
of each of your shoes,
followed by your contented sigh
which I cannot render here phonetically.
Beneath the frayed cuffs of your
your boot-cut jeans, your brand new socks---
(eagerly shown off, eagerly recognized to be
the color of the summer sky
in which the night's first star appears)---
neither stalking, nor talking, nor balking,
draw near to convey the fragrant warmth of your feet
to my offered, unworthy face
and to receive the grateful, gravitated tears
that slide as from a sluice over my upturned cheeks.

Starward