6.2.10

Steward

For Random Acts of Poetry. Why not write it here? Sometimes a poem is exactly what the soul needs...

"Steward"

Words spill
off tray tables,
pop out of
peanut wrappers,
honey roasted
(are you allergic,
I will trade them
for something
more apropos,
something
that won't leave
you breathless—
but still, one
never knows,
people have
choked on
chocolate covered
parenthetical
phrases like
"don't-ever-
doubt it, I-will-
always-love-you").

Pardon me,
sir, there's a stray
word under
your shoe.

Labels: ,

5 Comments:

Blogger nAncY said...

you know
i like it

6.2.10  
Blogger Melissa said...

delighted

6.2.10  
Blogger Susan Deborah said...

How lovely they words spread through my being . . .

I simply adored the last line.

Splendid!

Joy always,
Susan

7.2.10  
Blogger mom2six said...

I like the visual
left by the last
lines. A word
slipping from
His shoe
as I seek to
follow.

12.2.10  
Anonymous Erin said...

I do like this so much. :)

14.2.10  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home