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Poetry by Lise Whidden 

Lise lives in Bessemer City, NC.





© 2007 Lise Whidden






Cowboy Loves Me, I know He Does...
Around a fire on an autumn night
with blackberry wine on my tongue, 
I listen to glowing men transform
their every days into tales.
We the women laugh,
in all the appropriate places.
He stands along the edges, his hand
grips a basket of promises I can't carry.
Each eye like the deep hollow lens
of a camera waits to capture my image.
Maybe he wants to keep it in his wallet,
a photograph with no exhales.
I could draw him nearer to the blaze,
warm him with what he desires.
But I don't care to push
a wheelbarrow full of his tears.















All work is copyrighted property of Lise Widden.




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