MICHAEL THEROUX
★ ★ ★ ★
POETRY
Image by Chase Lewis
Fall Morning Light
Lying beside you
Early fall, first morning light
Finger tips touching
Sleepy cat nuzzles
Competing for attention
Move over, silly cat
Low sun streams through blinds
Golden stripes shift as you walk
Come back to bed, love.
Histories of Nations
You turn to me
Your eyes are soft
Our hearts laugh
The Universe of Us spins slowly
Our busy lives are enfolded
telephones, traffic, e-commerce
submittals rushed for overnight mail
Our essence buffers the chaos
These small mean souls
Spitting rage around us
turned aside, denied
entry to our garden
Whatever their madness
We move, and move together
The very heart of romance
moves, as we move. All the drama!
Histories of Nations have been changed
By love, such as ours
Michael Theroux writes from his home office in Northern California. He is presently shifting from decades of developing and publishing science-based socio-political works toward publication of his deep cache of poetry and prose, a challenge indeed at 73 but much more satisfying.
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