Wynn Everett

Wynn Everett lives in Los Angeles.  Her poetry has been published in Darling Magazine, Rebelle Society, River Poets Anthology, Wilderness House Literary Review and is a regular contributor to Haggard and Halloo in Austin, TX. You can read more of her work at www.tinypoetry.org

At 2am

five tiny toes press
against my lower back

the ones who lost their sock
in the nightly tumble

dreamers seeking warmth
under an old fashioned quilt.

Together we float
away from shore

from visions
in glitter and glory

for some more intoxicating
than a quiet night

or a simple raft
in a wordless sea.

Condensation of possibilities
the impressive pieces of life

form above us on a starry ceiling
temptation to open my mouth

and taste.
Again they press

the persistent five
pulling me back inside

the me I love most
the one not swimming

but content to drift
into the open storm

little hands and feet
tucked below my ribcage

a wooden boat
of unspeakable joy

that somehow always
remains dry.

one vice

she liked everything about him
short of one branch leafless
and bony deep within the tree
like a withered finger extending
from a young hand.
at times hard to ignore, especially
when the wind would blow,
but persuasion is easy when
ugly is hidden and you remember the ache
of sitting down night
after night in a quiet kitchen.
it is also important to remember
(her sister had told her during
a long distance phone call)
a disturbing branch can be
covered in season when
budding life consumes a tree,
especially spring when men
are on their best behavior
and sip lighter cocktails in skinny ties.
people change, turn corners,
that will be the case,
she promised her promises, focus on
the possibilities lilting in the breeze
not the curious winding deep
beneath the twisted root
stay above ground,
keep it clean,
and nights will feel better
requesting a table for two.

photo by: Doug Waldron