Today's poem is by Linda Tieber


It's quite late
It is quite late  late

I don't know how you can chain
smoke don't know how

The fog is about a mile out
You can see it floating

over the water
Floating over water  water

You chain smoke
My knees brush against

The tabletop
. . . about the fog

Far into the water there's a boat
Far out in the water water

You chain smoke smoking
Tide's going out

My knees your cigarette
Put out . . . put you out

Put out quite late
My ship's coming in

Far-off foghorn
Beacon . . .

Which seemed unnecessary

Walking the tide
when it goes out

as distant as a foghorn
the number of cigarettes burning in one night

capabilities, yours
maneuvering a mid-size boat

Tide tide

What the tide brings in
Morning . . . tide me over

Capable of morning
Rising . . . I rise

Like chain smoking

Oboe foghorn

Silence you
Beacon cigarette

Day like night
Daylight coming in with the tide

Daylight fog of night
Fog all day

Copyright © 2014 Linda Tieber All rights reserved
from Force of Flesh
Rain Mountain Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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