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The Replacement	of politically correct

sorcermiss
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Friday, December 12, 2008

newest pantoum, untitled

Fog huddles into the afternoon:
Drowsy, overlooking Frisco Bay.
Besides a daffodil transplanted to the window,
I’m alone in the kitchen, frying eggs.

My Frisco lover has overslept; he drowsily
Descends; gulps; pokes at the yolk with a ball of toast.
And I’m alone in the kitchen again.
Oily pans and plates, the leftovers of love –

The descending Sunday sun pokes through the
Window at my transplanted heart,
Foiling us. How then, do I love?
And carry on huddling into the afternoon.

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