morning poem, september 26, 2015




I put on Sam Cooke and my feet move

I don’t even have to think about it.

(She was only sixteen. . . )

There is time this morning

I’m alone in the house

I have no deadlines

Or, for the moment,

I’ve chosen to ignore them.

I think “What is the best thing we could do?”

Right now. Tonight.

I empty out all other rhythms, schedules and demands

And listen to that honeygold voice

(Darling, you send me . . . )

And I let myself fall in

And go all the way back

(At first I thought it was infatuation. . . )


We should go dancing, you and I

What could possibly be better?

I can’t dance,

But you can

And we know each other so well now

Who cares?

Surely there is some place around here

With an old juke-box and a linoleum floor.

We’d never regret it

And might always remember.

If they made a movie of our lives

This is the scene we’d want to end it with.

(We’d say to ourselves, “What a wonderful world. . .)


Copyright 2015

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8 Responses to morning poem, september 26, 2015

  1. abubhaji says:

    Awesome! I totally dig it!

  2. M. Alden says:

    Superb verse. It reminds me a lot of some of Richard Siken’s work, which is always a good thing in my book!

  3. karaskinner says:

    This is really cool! I love this poem, it’s so sweet.

  4. Love dancing, Sam Cook and this poem. Just wonderful.

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