Woolen Blankets

feather-soft, I trail fingers
through waters deep and wide
reaching beneath the surface
touch all the real places
covered by your depths

cupping my hands
I taste, with greedy lips
all the things you never say
(are they for me, your words?)

inexplicably, I know you, feel you
verses weave and wend
picking up the threads
wherever they lay
I knit them into woolen blankets
nestle and curl underneath them

your poetry becomes my home

tara caribou | ©2021

40 Comments on “Woolen Blankets

  1. Beautiful. The lines:

    “feather-soft, I trail fingers
    through waters deep and wide”

    …evokes an image of someone, perhaps in the afterglow of lovemaking, lazily (but with intent) letting their fingers dip into the waters while in a canoe or low boat on a placid lake.

    Dreamy. I wonder what the subject wants to hear while drinking words.

    Liked by 2 people

    • That’s what I pictured as well. Only reaching beneath the surface of the vast lake who is the artist, that’s where the real parts are. The reasons behind the art. The heart and soul.

      Liked by 2 people

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Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

Anonymously Hal

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