I look at your arms and chest intently.
In their direction, that is.
I am admiring your jerseys.
A different one each time I see you.
Hand knitted, patterned, coloured.
Hours and hours of devotion.
You say,
your wife has no interest in your writing.
I think,
she is a talented woman.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
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1 comment:
I like this poem. Thank you.
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