The Promise

New Year's Eve, NYC, 1965 by Joel Meyerowitz

THE PROMISE 

At the hour when words will not do

Promise me this

Nothing

Instead let your lips part on skin

Here and there

Softly

Along my brow

And cheek

Be

But speak not for these ears to hear

For one

Moment

Bite back on those little words that

Long to be

Free

At the bottom of your breath hold

Tight to them

And to me

                By Nancy Sima

Hello April - It's National Poetry Month! Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.