This is a new poem and a work in progress . . .
Love-Tied
I gather your dirty clothes
not for washing but
to smell the lingering bundle
of old cologne
then I touch an empty
wine bottle fondle the
stem of the glass and
remember it was red Italian
I take a sip of water from
your glass skull mug you
got at Treasure Island
I think of death
your voice sounded hollow
to me tonight but you
were calling from California
I remind myself in your
quiet train room my
love lies tied to the little metal tracks
you need clean underwear
and tomorrow
maybe
maybe you'll be coming back
Natalie Fuhr
Love-Tied
Love-Tied
Lizzie,
You always have charitable comments about my poetry. Thank you so much.
It's so strange being on-line sometimes. You're Lizzie, a name, but a person, too. You live in Florida. Will you be going to New York in 2004? Perhaps we will meet then.
Take care,
Natalie
You always have charitable comments about my poetry. Thank you so much.
It's so strange being on-line sometimes. You're Lizzie, a name, but a person, too. You live in Florida. Will you be going to New York in 2004? Perhaps we will meet then.
Take care,
Natalie
. I've always liked your poetry very much.