Monday, November 14, 2016

POEM: "Everybody Knows, A Long-Stemmed Rose"

Everybody Knows, A Long-Stemmed Rose

Aches pain from bumps and grinds
which age negotiates with experience
the scars you see plain upon a face
the oranges that say it doesn't matter
but we're not speaking yet of love

What will it profit a man to dance
less than his own two feet, a partner
who also ages at a chance of seasons
who won't speak of sitting this one out
who saw the future (maybe it is murder)

Body goes south before going west
before that last foolish indigence
but not speaking of indifference yet
lying once in a bed for months
listening to my book of longing

Even the old will climb mountains
lungs and legs pounding to a point
I heard you a whole hospital away
while we're not talking yet of miracles
I felt you, there's still no cure for love.

© 2016 Rob Schackne

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