Simply
Can you and I always be touching?
I mean, even times when we're
Buried in the couch and
Reading separate books, totally engrossed.
Can we remain yet in contact
Somehow, like our legs slowly rubbing
Up against one another's
And our toes can be touching?
And when we sit and smile someday
In green vinyl lawn chairs
At the beach, wearing UV-blocking sunglasses,
Deaf to the monotonous ocean crashing,
Our hands, you know, might start digging
Through the sand and tunnel together,
One last give and we'll break through.
We could be touching, then.
Keep your hand there, OK?
No thought makes me happier
Than sandy fingers clasping in the cool damp.
Mark Haggarty
.JPG)
Posts
9 years ago
>
2 comments:
I just realized i could get to your blog through your comments on mine. Sometimes I'm a little slow with these things. Your boys are soooo cute. I'm glad you got through the colicky days and he looks like such a happy baby now. I'm so glad Sawyer is not colicky. We went through one terrible day of him crying non stop, and I couldn't do anything. That's when poop got on the walls. Now he is back to his normal self, very content and happy, just want's to eat and sleep. Lincoln was my colicky baby, I'm glad I had him first, it would be so hard to do with a 2 year old. Good job.
I love your poem! Check out http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/ because they have interesting poems.
Post a Comment