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i plagiarize me & him
by Charlie Morganthe hole was deep enough;
but who would pull the dirt
[grassy top, last!] over me?
who'd kiss me? tuck-me-in?
would he read these words and
know that i plagiarized myself?
a circle dancing, an apostrophe
in the wings, waiting turns.
and all he could do was marvel
at me, this mirror image of me;
younger, heartier, heavier and
so much more our life's Falkor.
now all these words will be his,
as it should be, they were loaned.
also he gave me piano keys that
chattered and out came rumors.
he gave me bullfrogs sitting on hubcaps
spit-shinning their shins and long toes;
three black crows, three busy squirrels;
their dance partners unsure of themselves.
t'was a summer morning, felt like autumn.
my bag full of stolen words, his & mine.
08/24/2009 Posted on 08/24/2009
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Shonda Chrissonberry on 08/25/09 at 03:13 AM This actually brought tears. It is so very sad. And the weird thing is...I truly don't know why. Hats off to you Chaz. :) |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/29/09 at 04:01 PM There is something about the scent of that first autumn day that is so evocative. It never fails to thrust me back to the church lot where we played football, having tossed the baseball in the box for next year. Isn't it great that you have lived long enough to be able to plagraize yourself? I sure am glad... live on my friend and keep tossing the rediscovered words our way. |
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