You have missed our appointed time.
My body cells align their defenses.
The shopkeeper has no time
for my impatience. Windows
on the boulevard collect its grime
while concealing nosy occupants.
The air has potential lightning in it.
At a different time in history
I may have had you flogged,
charged you with witchcraft,
sold you into slavery -
and been entitled.
Home, I hear your voice at the back door.
You climb the stairs. In the kitchen,
you drop your burden from a long day
and sing out the new lyric
that today describes your paradise.
At the keyboard, I reconsider:
my shame makes this poem.
About Keith Moul:
Red Ochre Press has just published Keith Moul's Beautiful Agitation, a winner of its 2011 chapbook contest.
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