The Scarf
Pressing
The Old Question
The Scarf just think that every day she knits that scarf for me but that putting the best of me into each stitch she knits a millstone for me Copyright © 2009 Michael Shinn
Pressing To fully press the flower of their kiss Requires that time be put on hold, so they Hold on. The gateman rattles wards at this Contempt, and words: 'Late, and you'll lose a day.' They break, she for home, he into the wire Where, stripped as for his lover, he will bend For the confiscators, then never tire Of telling petals till his trials end. But you, bed-bound and blind, earn no home leave, However innocent, condemned to browse On the catalogues of flowers that we've Pressed between us. And yet we still arouse Fresh mounds of violets till they expose Again the fragrant, frequent, full-blown rose. Copyright © 2009 Michael Shinn
The Old Question page sleeping under this sheet that's shroud to sweet dream and nightmare should I wake you make you emerge to this suffocating fixity Copyright © 2009 Michael Shinn