Friday, March 21, 2008

Untitled

I don't know what to call this one...

Untitled

You're out there
Moving through your lists.
Traversing the terrain of your day.
Accomplishing things.

I suppose I'm doing the same
Here, at this desk, faithful to my work.
But honestly, my ferrous thoughts fly
Always to you, your magnetic heart.

I wonder if you feel
These thin cables shooting to you --
Spidery filaments of intention and love
Gently looping your hands, your face?

Later tonight
I will use them to pull you toward me,
Guide you to this incomplete house.
Back home to me.

3 comments:

Summer Nicklasson said...

desire(?)

nice poem.

Anonymous said...

In poetry, the good thing is, there doesn't have to be a name. Not a requirement like in stories. If you really want one, find something to describe the actual context of this poem - long lost friend, love interest, someone you know of or don't. i suppose it just depends who the poem is for and there you will find the answer....

Pretty subject. Exactly what we all want to hear.

Anonymous said...

Magnetic Heart.