The bed I made my babies in
finally had enough
long before the lifetime
warranty expired on our loving
long after the stuffing got knocked
out of the marvelous middle
in between spaces and faces not so
easy to forget.
To navigate 20,000 leagues or 80 days
divided by an ocean
my new love and I settled
on a bargain priced queen sized bed
to ensure our newness and migration
would recognize forgiveness and lull us
back to sleep.
Fresh sheets were bought: bold solid shades
in rich Egyptian cotton
eschewed the flowery prints and staid patterns
of our other married life.
To seal this rumpled union we ignored
the criminally tossed wet towels
vowed to leave
the uneven corners of the fitted sheet
not pulled tight.
•••Carlyon Blackman is a Barbadian poet who is an avid reader, loves to travel and meet people, who is defining/refining her voice through poetry. Previous and forthcoming publications include The Caribbean Writer and St Somewhere Journal . Carlyon can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Inspiring, thought-provoking, takes me away from the conventional to the truly poeterrific!
Madam is a true wordsmith. “the uneven corners of the fitted sheet/not pulled tight” Is it ever? Can it ever be “pulled tight”. That would mean completion. Ah, the unfinished …
Luv yr poe/tree Carlyon. Speaks 2 me purrsunally. Touches the base cord/chord of my b/ing.
I like this more each time I read it.
Thank you all for your kind comments.
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