Thursday, October 8, 2009


Not a word I uttered
reached his ear

so this is to say,

Out with a friend to
sing our


with fake plastic
salt shakers in hand.

Make light of those
truly wanted things

until they pop up through
weeded sidewalks

and tear your jeans.

Drink white tea on cold
autumn nights

snuggled next to
your honey.

When your loves go
away to meet their

storybook princes,
think of me fondly

or write me affections.

I dare delusions whilst
doing the same.


Anders Enochsson said...

You create distinct images in my mind by this poem. A masterly crafted poem. I'm really glad I found you!

Rachel said...

Thanks Anders! I enjoy your blog, too :)