moonstruck
by Rene Foran
i waited for the moon
last night
for hours
fell asleep
with the record player on
and dreamed
of rain
running down
gutters
of sea glass houses
the sun nudged me awake
and she served me toast
he's not serious,
she said
he's half baked,
full of himself
and probably
on to something new
you're right, i say
i know, i smile,
i let her in
she braids my hair and
kisses my shoulder
still
there's something
something about him
that makes me not mind
being stood up
not hate
being struck dumb
Rene ~ 2013
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That close to the sun and still in the dark. I love the way you express this, love the beauty of falling asleep with the music on and the sun making toast.The closing lines are full of shadows.
Can you tell how much I liked this?
The sun... in the feminine.
Never thought of it that way. Liked the thought of it.
Dump him. He's bad news. *
I'm no poet, but I liked the story invoked here and the way you told it.*
This strikes me as . . . *
(PS did you perchance see the lovely sliver moon tonight?)
A delightful poem.
*
Straight to my heart. Fave