Morgan Michaels Poems

Rush hour, the doors slammed open.
In, disheveled, she swept.
'The poor soul', I thought, 'may God bless her'.
Then, capping a litany of woes:
...

Fiery clouds blot the sky
that was summer's
earlier today,
...

Poor Giorgio:
so far ahead he was behind;
so far behind he was ahead;
so liberal
...

'Move closer, darling, ' I have heard you say,
When it's proximity that keeps us far away.
...

Cold...unusually cold
complain even my most upbeat
and studiously cheerful friends
(who may yet silently
...

Sandpiper, Sandpiper
at land's end
on dozens of legs
you chase the collapsing waves
...

Oh, to be young once more
youth scenting the hair,
an easy conscience, a vision clear
taking the stairs two
...

'Steady as she goes....'
Rilke said 'Ich lobe...'
so we must, I suppose;
...