Monday, August 23, 2010

Wine Tasting

Wine Tasting
A local elder grins as he toasts
our visit to the coast: “You can come
golfing with us tomorrow!” I think,
not even mini-golf and toss back
his grandfatherly attempts at flirting.

She lifts her glass to mine
as we smile ten years’ worth of
veterinary visits, cross country moves
and intermittent therapy.
Here’s to us in paradise.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Telephones Suck

Telephones Suck

I could call.
But you know, calling ought to
mean, “Meet me at CafĂ© Ardour”
or “wanna make me that dynamite
chana masala? I’ll bring the Pinot Gris.”

I would call.
But how can I distill my
latest adventure into sentences
with periods? How can you study
my face and inquire, “why that wrinkle?”

I should call.
But how many times
have we scolded, “Don’t
should!” So you would expect
nothing more or less of me—me.

I won’t call.
But I will let you (and the world)
know how much I miss you
and wish you 
were here.