two, alone (poem) by john k zimmerman on AuthorsDen

two, alone
by john k zimmerman → (All Poetry by john k zimmerman)

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this started as one thing and became something else
The tawdry novel is my camouflage sitting on the dock. It is the quiet hour afternoon; we have the cottage to ourselves. I am aware of your presence your sensuality overwhelms even though your robe chastely hides your charms. Best i read. But the novel is really dull and you are real and overawing, I start with a touch, a gentle hand chastely on your shoulder. You neither respond nor resist just allow my hand to linger. I slide my hand under you robe and discover your naked breast. �Not here stupid. Not on the dock.� �Why?� �People will see.��So?� Your look is somewhere between apoplexy and dumbfoundment� My hand stays put, put but not still, your face softens, your stance opens with a half moan you�re off running like a moose cow graceful and strong And deceptively fast. I grab a towel you already have ten steps on me. I lumber in pursuit. It a stretch for me to catch up as we head up the path to the clearing beyond the dead snag on all fours you wait �here, now, like this� you pant pulling your robe away,... �Daddy, Daddy, Let�s go!� Six tiny hands pull me from the dead snag, and back through time.�Let�s pick some flowers for Mummy and the baby!� Up the path we troop. So much for memories and tawdry novels, and you and me alone on the dock. Well, maybe in twenty years � HA!