Monday, August 13, 2012


Letter to Will

Dawn Potter

He is chainsawing
And has decided
To love me
Again, I think.
Last night he
Ran his hands
Through my hair,
Down the nape,
Of my neck,
Kissed me between
The shoulder blades,
And so on.
But I lay
On my side
In another world.
It was like
Having the flu,
Or wearing 3-D
Glasses. I was
Tired, not knowing
What he meant
By kissing me.
Maybe tonight he’ll
Still be happy
Enough, almost talking
To me, eating
Sour apple tart,
Watching a French
Movie with his
Head in my
Lap. We stumble
On and on.

[first published in the Unrorean (2012); forthcoming in Same Old Story (CavanKerry Press, 2014)]

4 comments:

Ruth said...

I love the line breaks in this.

Dawn Potter said...

Each line has 3 words.

Ruth said...

I notice that
very very clever

Dawn Potter said...

I don't know why I decided to do that. Funny how these patterns just occur.