dd
Stevie Reed
Come sleep inside
this wheel with me,
the smell of men leaving.
We are decembrists uprising,
stealing free. No jackets, only tarred leaves
against a severe sky.
Factory down and nothing left
but bones. With stacks of tires,
Ill build you a nest, high up and deep.
Fresh treads,
no miles between us
only rarefied child-hooded fragments.
So sweet and stale is our heavy breath
curled up like astronauts.
Little stow aways
not wanting to go home.
Somwhere supper is cold
while I hold one hand
and cup your crumpled chin.
Here today, gone tomorrow
are the details
of your face,
your name for me.
round I, poem 20, 17 March 2006
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| Stevie Jean Reed is a 33 yr. old mixed media painter for local commercial and residential design houses. Her poetry has been published in Virginia Adversaria, Punky Mom's International Forum,
and a handful of other on-line and hard copy small press magazines. She
resides in Austin ,Texas with her son and two chihuahuas. email: spiedee777@yahoo.com |
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