Peter A. Weinberg – Poetry

I lived in grey shadows
   No one sane approached me
Pleasures and this was okay
   Only the saddest most ecstatic moments

Comely, distraught and determined

Here’s where the water’s hottest
   Glides clear brown over glass, grass and stone
At this time of year
   the nights are shortest

No sleep

Alive in the luminescence
   in the curves of her moons
In the river’s sweet clear foam
   in the night

$15,000 in credit card debt
   no savings
she lives paycheck to paycheck
   ski trip to ski trip

A kind of comely, well-dressed desperation

Mom used to pick all the candied pecans
   off the pecan danish ring
Had you died first
   dad would have been bereft

She shook the pecans down

I reached out last night but
   not for love and
not for you

-March 24, 2010-