Coyotes Howl in Fallbrook
Two Poems by Paul Colaluca
The CardShe remembered his day. Taped to the bathroom mirror her words said everything he so wanted to hear.
Blinking, his throat tightened. She said they described him, had always been true for her. He loved her like no other.
She’d thanked him for the years, said it was time to live his life. He smiled, turned away content. Then back again, unsure.
Suddenly it read differently. Was it saying something else? Had she tired of his forgetfulness, and never being early?
She was his calm rock. Was she saying it was over? As sureness turned to fear, a child looked back at him.
The one he’d left far behind, now stared with lonely eyes. It was late, she was asleep. He’d ask in the morning.
Touching HerThe slowly moving fan pushes summer air down on their languid bodies, spent and just breathing.
She lies close to him under warm rumpled sheets, her curving silhouette calls mutely to his need
for passion’s close embrace of flashing hot urges, that erase all thoughts except for luscious lust.
What is she in his life, a vampire of the heart, or savior of the soul? The question wanders off.
As she stirs with a sigh content in her release, he reaches to caress the center of his world.
Closing the space between he cups her warmth gently to a small trusting moan, and answers amble back.
She draws him to a mirror, as though touching her clears his life’s reflection, making him known to himself.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦Paul Colaluca writes: “I am a poet-at-heart ... feeling things softly and seeking ways to share them with words. My hope is to create a space of possibility, where gentleness and compassion can be expressed and experienced.”
Image by Greg Westfall via a Creative Commons license.