February 14, 2011

• Valentine’s Morning

  Some days I miss you terribly
  Before you’ve even left my side.
  I want to wrap my arms around
  Your waist, and hold, and turn ears deaf
  To phone-call bosses, shrieking clocks;
  A world’s impatience at the dawn.

  Is it chance that one such morning
  Falls on today, a Hallmark scene?
  Named after a dead saint or three,
  Who may or not have really lived
  Or loved, or breathed, or held entwined
  Their women warm in morning arms.

  And did they know–these dead saints three,
  Whose single name evokes a haze
  Of lace and hearts and harlequins–
  That ache of momentary loss
  When out you climb from pillowed nest
  And leave my arms all gaping-cold?

  • 9:10 am
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