keeping the romance alive

 

Passing you in the forest

or in between delicate, wrought iron filigrees,

I see you and immediately think on Whitman’s noiseless, patient one;

casting myself, too, to the Universe,

hoping to catch some small connection to some soul…

lost or otherwise,

so I can anchor myself somewhere

after half a life time of floating on thermals

when it’s time to be elsewhere.

 

I envy your weavings and connections –

randomly purposeful,

collected in unseen places to catch the nearest way

for the juiciest bits.

 

Yet you still terrify me

with your hairy, spindly legs

and gross eyes;

making me scream like a little girl

if I find you in my bathtub

…no Whitman there –

the romance is gone when I meet you out of context.

I’ll endeavor to remember your romantic nature

and the Whitman connection

next time I stumble upon you in my shower.

R.L. Elke

Aug 5/17 prompt 9