“Sometimes I Say To A Poem,”

“Stop Bothering me! Can’t You See

I’m Checking My Messages?

The poem, just outside of my window, looking in,

snickers and then laughs,

“Oh, poor baby,  we don’t wish to

interfere with your messages…,”

she sneered,

then, after a few seconds,

“turn the dam thing off,

don’t you know i am in your head,

and there is only one way to get me out?”

No, I say, I didn’t know, but once I thought about it

I know it’s true.

I sigh,

I’m just busy,

I’m not in the mood.

The poem looks wry,

says nothing,

she climbs up onto the bird feeder

just outside of my window,

then winks, smiles, blows me a kiss,

lifts her skirts and shakes her bottom,

and looks shy…

she has my attention now.

I smile back at her, and she leans

forward, right through the window glass,

and whispers in my year,

“Do you hear that very loud noise?…”

yes I do,

it is a very  loud, unnerving sound.

“You just made the sky fall.”