Thursday, May 01, 2008

dock n sky.jpg
We are all...missing something, someone...

The salty french fry....slain by a doctors pen.

A child’s soft fingers, touching the cheek....as if touching the moon.

Lover’s breath...warming the side of ones face....so close you can hear thoughts.

The crunch of snow...when ones legs didn’t seem as brittle as the weak crust of earth.


We are all...missing someone, something...


Laughter, that crinkles noses and sparkles in the eyes like rain drops caught on branches.

Withering but strong hands and the way she brushed her hair back from her face.

How the wind carries the scent of pine off the mountain...rushing over you gently.

The waters, the ripples, the feel of rock on the palm of your hand...the silver glisten.

Some miss clatter, chatter and fussing....others, the quiet, the cricket and the tick tock.

Some miss their breasts, some their teeth, others, miss faces lost in growing dusk.


We are all missing something, someone....


Some miss the toilet, erections and orgasms, the smell of baby powder....or sleep.

The aroma of morning resounding with coffee spoons tinkling white cups and saucers.

The pant of a dog, the tap dancing of four feet....the purr of contentment or the stretch of careless ease by a sunny window pane.

Some miss lips, others their once slimmer hips and some miss all the good tips.

Walking, running or the chance to go up...stairs, ladders and hillsides...are what some miss.

Combs, brushes, hair spray....no need for belts, or wigs, or making up excuses for the reason they are not there anymore....I guess some might not miss.

Some miss families...bedrooms, porches and swings....doors, couches and a place called home.

All of us are missing....someone, something...

-Eric Blauer 5.1.08
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