You must laugh at me

Here I sit, sipping Heffeweiz'n,
writing you letters and missing you.
Do they get there? I can't say.

Once I had a ring

Once I had a ring but lost it
And nothing I wear is the same.
I think it's changed sizes on me.

Ensnared or freed?

Am I crazy--here and over,
A little loop, back to then,
Again, again--thinking of her?

Afterwards

A little wine to hold the time--
Needing to know, so much to say.
I must wait, or lose completely.

On writing a French poem

Pulling to pieces, bits to bits,
Syllabic sentences, letters,
Wordy words, dissecting it all.

The portrait

Silver mane-bright eyes sitting curled
With her young colt--so sly!--and her
Soulful, bare hooves tucked underneath.

Sunday

Aimless lazing, drifty glazing,
All-day nothing-to-do Sunday
Spending my time thinking of you.