Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sixty Six . . .

Chosen Star
by Stormcat

Don't call, or call
today. This longing cannot be satisfied
by your presence nor by your absence.
I'm so cold. I hide in bed under three
quilts and two blankets and one sheet. The cell
phone gives me away by not ringing. Continuously
I check for signal bars and battery bars. Always
present "be my love cause no one else can end
this yearning" close my eyes to allow the vision
This time it’s animals. Hmmm . . . first time
that's happened. I wanted it to be your face
An owl an eagle an owl a hawk a groundhog
what's this? Come closer. Oh! A pony.
A wild pony. With a winter coat. Its mane hanging
over its eyes like too long bangs. It seems to be

Tears without moisture.

Everything dies, even the stars.
I wonder. Do living stars have a funeral when one dies?
How many realists are disappointed when they realize
that their realism isn't real! Must we suffer
the consequence of a thousand ordinary dreams
such so that one genius dream can be realized?
No . . . and Yes
I forgive you a thousand times over for
not realizing that I have met a hundred thousand
stars and chosen only you to love.
How could you know? Or more to the point
how could I tell you without sounding self serving?
Or even more, it doesn't matter how many you were
chosen over if you yourself don't

 Copyright 2011 All rights reserved

1 comment:

  1. Excellent writing had tears in my eyes reading this.