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Remembering Laughter
by Jim BenzMorning kisses me.
She feels that something's wrong,
A smell of moonlight rising from my skin.
She thinks it might derive
From shadows, and these frighten her,
So she puts her lips away,
Steps out of bed and lets me slumber.
Moments later, I hear her grinding
Coffee in the kitchen,
Running water in the sink.
If I listen closely,
I sense her shadows rearrange
Into toast and morning chores.
Still, I lie in bed
Where hearts resemble sand:
How it sifts through fingers, naked
As the risen tide, washed
In sorrow. 05/21/2007 Posted on 05/21/2007
Copyright © 2026 Jim Benz
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 05/21/07 at 04:39 PM You move me beyond words. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/22/21 at 08:54 PM This is terrific. Wish we heard from Jim now and then. |
| Posted by Paganini Jones on 03/25/21 at 04:42 PM I don't remember reading this when it first went on. It is one of the best poems I have read on here and deserves a wider audience. So much encapsulated in six stanzas. And seems very apposite in these Covid times. |
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