Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Magpie Tales 37

There is a history of going
and coming—

of pleasing and displeasing—

of knocking on wood
and crossing fingers
and Late Night
with and without David

There are vague memories
of Here’s Johnny and
nights turned away
and nights…
nights so hot we could not
stand to touch and
others so hot the sweat
was the conductor of electricity
the completed circuit
that rode between two bodies
too wrapped up in each
to hear the pitter patter
of little feet
or may not
have been outside
the door.

The walls know more
than the disarray can tell.
But walls are the great depositories
of secrets. They hold
on to things we never knew
and things too
we let go of.

©2010 – Michael A. Wells - All Rights Reserved

Magpie Tales 37
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