Jeff's Poetry, Evidenceofyou.com

Evidence of You

 

I searched our bed this morning,

tossing covers,

and pillows aside,

trying to locate,

an indentation, a hair,

or even a fading scent

of your shampoo,

or perfume.

 

A lingering fragrance,

of apples or white diamonds,

any essence at all,

that could be attributed to you.

 

Just one little tidbit

I could taste, or touch, or smell,

that would give the day the colors,

the small of your back,

and breathless sighs,

gave to me last night.

I Need No Other Colors

 

I need no other colors.

There is no sienna,

quite the shade,

or texture,

that resembles the locks

blowing off your shoulders

in an azure summer breeze.

 

And there is no emerald,

that shines or sparkles,

the way your eyes do,

when candle light and wine,

have brought you to my arms,

and midnight has run off,

to romance a yellow moon.

 

And what crimson tint,

could be more sensual,

more inviting, more anything—

then the one mixed by God

and gently glazed upon your lips?

 

As I lay here, next to you

sheltered in your rainbow,

while the weatherman drones on,

about black skies and rain,

I feel sorry for the world,

and their spectrum of darkening gray.

 

Wrapped up in quilted blankets,

pigmented by your touch,

I have come to the conclusion,

that I need no other colors.

Having found you,

I know there are none.

The Simplest of Things

 

Why is it,

after all these autumns,

and springs we’ve known,

I can still get caught,

like a fish biting on a marshmallow,

floating lazily downstream?

 

Why is it something as mundane,

as you painting your toenails,

can become the highpoint of my day?

 

Is it the way your robe opens

just enough,

for me to glimpse flushed areola’s?

Or is it the sienna tufts

rising out from cotton panties,

like grass will sometimes

poke out of weathered sidewalks?

 

Or is it just that I know,

you’re watching me, watching you,

waiting for that perfect moment,

when you’ll giggle,

and invite me back to bed?

Only Five Words

 

You wrote me a letter once,

well, it wasn’t really a letter,

more like a note, a short one,

only five words.

 

Five words that changed my life,

and left me gasping for air,

trying to stop my hands

from shaking, my heart from racing,

and the night from swallowing me whole.

 

They say the pen,

is mightier than the sword,

and I guess I know that’s true.

 

I wonder how many others,

found hell inside their door?

How many other lives were broken,

by the words “I don’t love you anymore?”

How Do You Tell a Leaf?

 

Winds stalk me,

trees tremble at my approach,

they are afraid of the cold,

that follows me,

and in hushed leafy whispers,

they ask me as I pass,

“Why is it you’re not afraid?”

 

Un-answering, my feet march on,

trodding on their fallen brethren,

lovers, sisters, brothers and friends—

 

What’s to answer?

would they understand?

 

How do you explain to a leaf?

That the cold can’t be as bad,

as waking up tomorrow,

and finding it just the same as today.

 

Finding the same empty bed,

the same lone hair,

stretched out across your pillow,

a single stranded ghost,

to constantly remind you,

that hearts like seasons,

share a kinship of change.