I have a face that
questions taking part,
and a corner that piles
books like it’s
a year-end holiday,
I don’t spell properly,
I can’t say what got
in the way of the iec’s
and the tz’s,
I make a fine bundt cake though
I called him a year ago
to hear his voice say
Hello, I didn’t answer,
never wanted to take him
from his forty year skinny dip
with the blond,
I listened, then turned back
to my sandpaper and
an opinionated west wind
About the Poet
Catherine is a published New England poet. She believes oceans that fall in the night are good for writing. Her conch shells have speakers.
Vita Brevis Press 