My mother wouldn’t stand up
to wave. My father made certain
the door locked behind me.
But when I went for your door
you came too. Your mouth
made a flute of my arm,
its music a glass on the past.
My love, my love, went its song.
Now there is no need to leave.
Copyright © 2016 by Susan Wheeler. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 6, 2016, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“I wanted to write a simple and direct poem to the person I love and live with.”
Author Susan Wheeler has published several collections of poetry and a novel
Date Published: 2016-12-06
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/love-poem-3