wb :

double bill.

Hug

hovering on each other's edges
there is a precipice of indecision
in the split second of eye contact
a buzz (is it electrical, or some force of the soul?)

there is a rush; and the moment
vibrates
between the could be
or maybe should not then there is no hope

when it's over we wonder if it really happened;
was it some sort of insanity
(but we feel the lingering warmth down our sides)




Leaves

no telling when the wind will blow
its coming or its leaving
except the sound of moving leaves
a silence's gentle sieving

between the bars of quiet
with luck a footstep may trawl
a passing car makes angry air
on an evening's sultry drawl.

my breath intrudes;
Silence is the friend of feet
voices give way to headlights
and the sound of a darkened street.

adam

Labels: poetry