A name
40Po1
Poetry

A name.
She is thinking
Of someone else
I know
And have known for a while

Her thoughts have been Elsewhere, her mind caught Somewhere Someone Must be responsible

But I cannot blame Anyone No one can help With this one problem I face

I do not know his name Only his face That face That she has seen Over and over

The night is cold The window open, releasing The heat of the room into The chill outside air

Lying together I brush against her And she whispers a name Which is not mine And I do not know why

1989 December 28

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Copyright © 1989 Erik Max Francis. All rights reserved.
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Poetry
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