Anemos (Wind)
We sit on the front porch chatting
a fall wind bristles through my skin,
stirring ideas of cabins in woods and
places to paint outlandish dreams.
Our chemistry like an omelet being
poured into a pan, then flipped at just
the right moment; easy and palatable.
The dog at your feet, your mother
almost asleep, are kielbasa and apple
buttered toast on the side. You smile
from some knowing with bated breath
blowing over extra-hot lattes and teas
like *Boreas bidding both of us quickly
come-hither to the north beyond Thrace.
ky li
10.5.15/9:05am
© 2015 Tortuga Press
* God of the north-wind in Greek mythology.
