We sit by the fire
I start, you finish the tale
Of the two of us
About the Creator
Bonnie Bowerman
Just a curious soul with a crayon, at the beginning of my writing journey. There were many absorbing detours along the way.
I am so happy, I stumbled upon this community. The depth of talent here, takes my breath away!
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress3 days ago in Poets
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