Thursday, 8 January 2009

why I always come running by Angie Werren

I hear you call my name-

Exasperation races to my lips.
The words hide behind my teeth waiting
I put down all the things I need to do.

Can't you see I'm busy?

What-is-it-this-time becomes a hiccup when
I see your face
beaming like a five year-old with
a handful of tickets at the county fair.

It's not the bird you point at while you shush me.
It's not his proud red-ringed head or the feathers
on his belly:
I'm not even looking.

It's the little boy who forgot the old man,
unrestrained by responsibility,
who makes me run to the window
and leave the kettle
who shows me pink sunsets,
yellow-shafted flickers
and little white flowers.

He brings me smiles.

Angie Werren, Ohio, USA


Anonymous said...

That's lovely, Angie. The image brings a smile to my face too.

Anonymous said...

Love this poem. Great images.

Regina said...

Just wonderful, Angie!
I love this poem!

Anonymous said...

I really love the childlike play and truth woven in the last stanza.

Wonderful, and I enjoyed reading it. :) Congrats!

Ana said...

I love it: the rhythm (the tempo), the images, the choice of words…I find impossible to pick a favorite stanza or line, for I like them all

Kilauea Poetry said...

Hi, just stopped by to say it's a very lovely poem-

Anonymous said...

come on, angie. a werren doesn't do this.

i hope we're of no relation.

Anonymous said...

Thank you, everyone, for your kind comments...and thank you, Juliet, for this beautiful space!

It's lovely in here!