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I wrote this poem for you
with the black pen you left on my desk.
Just 30 minutes ago you were here
sitting beside me.
But, maybe the breeze
from the open window was too much,
so you left me sitting at my desk.
I wonder if you like poems
or would you rather I paint you a picture instead.
I write poetry, that’s what I do.
But not you.
You drink beer and eat fried food
while I sit by the fireplace sipping red wine.
I picked up the shirt you’ve thrown next to my desk
Thumbing the ripped pocket from last night’s bar fight.
Next time break a rib,
or ten!
I’ll wait here organizing the linen closet,
considering why are you and I are the same.
Then, I finally noticed the note you left,
written with the black pen still sitting on my desk.
Consider.
Cherish.
Love.
Take care,
Someday we will look back fondly.