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A Sensorium: Winter Cheeks

Spill into a field mouse's living room
 And talk about how spruce and earth are useful,
 And wool sweaters splashed in dye blue-red are
 Warm and bring smiling fingertips
 And sensuous eyes that touch cheeks
 Of a December walk among the woods
 On red rocks next to blue chilled lakes
 And iced trees and mountains and flesh
 And whispers and a dance of minds
 Graced of windy speed,
And talk about how worlds on a page have a floppy unconnectedness
 To any other eyes, which is why smiles and
 Down-turned cheeks flicker in a companionful
 Necessity of wholeness, said the mouse,
 Who indeed was of light cheeks
 While lounging on the red wool which
 Belonged once on the wrists of a
 Beautiful woman.

T. J. M. [1991]

Copyright © 1998 Tobin Jon Manley. All rights reserved.