Her laptop sits upon my pillow,
poems covering my side of our bed.
Jazz escapes her headset as I lean
in for a quick peck on my cheek.
Her eyes return to her writings
as I exit unmissed to the den.
This same scene for six months of
nights, falling asleep on the couch.
I hold myself to blame. I begged
her to come, read for open mike
and she loved it. Her first reading
wowed the audience, she read again,
became a regular, joined a writers
critique group, found her voice,
was asked to be the featured reader,
wrote more, read more, published,
now working on her second collection,
of poems covering my side of our bed.
Carl "Papa" Palmer of Old Mill Road in Ridgeway VA now lives in University Place WA. He has a Seattle Metro contest winning poem on the wall of a bus riding the streets in Emerald City. Carl, president of The Tacoma Writers Club is a Pushcart Prize and Micro Award nominee.
MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever