|Kint lives in Shannon, Ireland.|
© 2003 Kint McLerity
The day I roll over in bed
To find you next to me, dead,
I'll rise, dress myself in clothes of black
grieve for one hour.
One hours seems the proper length
For your mourning.
One hour to regret the minutes
I wasted in anger, in our few fights,
An hour to cry over the weekends
I spent hard at work, instead of with you;
One long hour to lament
Over the lost nights, sleep took me,
When I could not talk with you until the sun
Rose again while we watched together.
After that hour I'll strip away the black
And redress, perhaps in my green dress shirt
The button down and my oldest pair of jeans,
The ones you love so much now,
And for the rest of my life
Never will there be a drink before a toast
To you; every smile will be a small red flag
Flying with your standard of pearly teeth;
Every night I'll locate a new star
To name after you and every morning
I'll lift myself with eyes closed
and kiss the sunrise
Where your lips used to be.
of a vast starlight mural:
spinning carefree school girl,
tucked warmly across her chest,
pitched up to view the rest
the universe as it meanders by,
a star-glossed smile in her eyes,
if never having seen the black sheet.
night sky guides her feet
stellar patterns sailors plotted out
dances, eyes on the steps charted out.
with the rotation of the earth,
event leading up from her birth
the simple moment of gaiety and mirth
stargazing from a parking lot on earth.
All poems are copyrighted property of Kint McLerity.
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