NaPoWriMo #8

This poem was written in a less provocative place than my last poem.  This poem was written at the five-pin bowling alley while my daughter played in her league.  Enjoy.

If you and I were

I could follow the thought line down
the path to what never was
the pulsing city thudding out a bass line
to the amble of our feet
another club          damp hair whipping
through green and pink   and yellow laser lights
sweating to the stamp of youth
another drink, perhaps      vibrant hues      forgetting taste
then overnights in your bed
tumbling sheets    exhausting the dawn

this is how it goes from there:
familiar and fond, we settle in    to each other’s skin
grump at the needles of the everyday
the funny way you say         the accusing way I sigh
the way  the way      we unpack comfort like a crime
then a silver band and vows    and midnight confettis
we tip the hourglass       admire the shine of the glass
fail to remember the sand as it’s rushing
the grit of life    the maybes    the maybes sliding past
a never on my lips.

©  2015 by Robin A. Sams

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