I Meant to Thank You**

I thought I had tomorrow-
more than one, like petals
from an infinite flower
held in my hand.
I thought I had tomorrow
foolishly thinking the chances
would arise in infinite number
rolling in like waves
again and again on the shore.
But the words-writ at my feet,
stayed there, washing away
like silken sand,
crumbling in liquid lines–
the words I never said.
I meant to say “Thank you.”

**

This poem is from a line prompt in The Mischief Cafe, a traveling sort of poetry party book published by Tweetspeak Poetry.  If you’re shy about writing poetry, The Mischief Cafe is a good place to start.

Similar Posts

  • Timber over Time

    Building a marriage is timber over time, the on purpose-ness of candles on the table on a run-of-the-mill Saturday night illuminating the daily gift that says, “I made something for you.” It’s a pile of firewood carried through the cold, banked against the night’s chill. Opera music, loud on the stereo while dinner cools and…

  • English Lesson, Kindergarten

    Across the pencils pointed skyward like so many word-wielding swords past the gray and steel of overflowing desks filled with orphaned papers stashed, crumpled askew over the carpet-bland, sturdy, useable home to small and hopeful feet to the doorway–closed. Through it comes life and noise and limbs, any moment now– eager hearts, chattering faces, souls…

  • Keeping Watch

    I flatten myself carpetside, legs parallel as the lines of a crosswalk,arms a perpendicular “T”to my torso, aching as theystretch (or do they stretchand therefore ache?) Open-bodiedstance releases all weight of this weary week.White-flagging my way to the floora wide space spans my once-tightpalms, now held by an invisiblesilken thread index to index.Sprung free from…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *