Merritt Waldon

Curled up, a cursive line of ecstasy

Like an offering on the altar of Delphi

Her beauty mimics eternity

As she sleeps, folded up in a pink

Blanket covered in hearts

A soft song on the lips of muses

Breathing in, exhaling         dreams

Sighing, returning eyes to midnight

Television, lighting a secret

I sing the song of ages

Of beauty

 

 

We talk at times, others we just chill

We do things, like go to my hometown

For the river or books, or both, or

Just for the drive; some times we go other places

Or just drive, smoking singing along with radio

Enjoying the electromagnetic pulse of heart

Beats

 

 

 

Some times I do have a bit more drink than should

And im loud, and obnoxious a lil; a jerk I guess;

 

Yet she does not give up on me, or go away

Once there was a time a long the road here

I needed that more than any thing

 

Still do, 

There are times in this part of my life

Im not sure why any one talks with me,

Or would decide to be around

 

And then she smiles. And there are a myriad

Questions that grandchildren can ask of anything

They may want or want to know ; 

and so it’s a full bloom of rebuke

On all that