Let Me In On your Secrets
Women smooth out white sheets
of loose leaf poetry for me to read.
Their hearts are open for me to explore.
They lead me quietly through the rows of words,
my eyes groping the private parts of their past.
I am not the one to prescribe penance, medication or therapy.
For I too am a romantic, lonely soul
in need of strong eyes to hold my paper,
and read my poem.
~ d.wharnsby, Waterloo, Canada, November 1997
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Beautiful. Words like silk spun, akin to Donne.
Reblogged this on dzaguru and commented:
This is Xcaret I’ve..so much reminds me of my literature! Beautiful
Beautifully written