Your Favorite Poems

macele · 09-29-2011, 08:30 PM

by Rikki Clark

In the river in the gloaming
will your creased hand, skin thin
with age, bruised and brown, reach
for mine? Will I feel the warm throb
at your wrist, draw my hand down
the crevices of your face,
stop at your chin and circle
my finger over a scar? Together
we’ll become soft and round.
You’ll lay your head in my lap,
tell our stories about our red-headed child
and the bearded dog and make me laugh
with it all. At night,
by habit, we’ll breathe in concert.
Your body still smells of raw honey and soap,
and as you collect your last breath,
I’ll whisper in your ear.

09-29-2011, 08:30 PM	#11
macele Member How Do You Identify?: a bold-assed maximus Preferred Pronoun?: she Join Date: Sep 2011 Location: mississippi Posts: 1,066 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 3,178 Thanked 3,230 Times in 847 Posts Rep Power: 21474851	In the river In the gloaming by Rikki Clark In the river in the gloaming will your creased hand, skin thin with age, bruised and brown, reach for mine? Will I feel the warm throb at your wrist, draw my hand down the crevices of your face, stop at your chin and circle my finger over a scar? Together we’ll become soft and round. You’ll lay your head in my lap, tell our stories about our red-headed child and the bearded dog and make me laugh with it all. At night, by habit, we’ll breathe in concert. Your body still smells of raw honey and soap, and as you collect your last breath, I’ll whisper in your ear.