Evening Tomb


Smoked-filled room, choke the senses,

tenant’s visits heightens defenses.

Buried emotions, snuffed stale air,

vacant expressions with sunken stares.

All who come to the evening tomb,

cloud their lives within the room.

Clinking of glasses the flame of the lighter,

two strangers meet, become one-niters.

Reaching from trust now long failed,

hopes wrapped up now kept and jailed.

Speaking present, the buried past,

masking in drinks, in hopes it will last.

Long enough to help forget,

strangers, soon lovers, talk and sit.

She now with her tinted hair light,

sits as he listens throughout the night.

Each one look for their night of need,

knowing dawn their guilt will breed.

A different loss, a hollow space,

another night to seek; erase.

©  CMM   2000

The Day of Valentine


Oh, but the heart that has labored love

in laced valentine’s of past.

Cutting out the ribbons of red,

to give in hopes that love will last.

The confectionaries create their wares

and boxed in all heart’s and sizes.

As anticipation builds in

the expectant heart she prizes.

The day will wear and waiting passes.

How will the promise come?

The time for many and then a few

but, from the hopeful one?

© CMM  2012