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tuckered out

tuckered out

and just then
the moon
in the morning sky
woke something sad inside me
like holden
watching phoebe on the carousel
in the last pages
the poetry of sallinger
the morning
the dogs waking up
sounds of their flap
in and out
their paws making a crunch sound
on the crispy brown grass

this summer of joy
as my hand on your back
the nape of your neck
3 am
warm smiles
i feel from here
beside the plunge pool
a moment


i am the poet of desire by john oakley mcelhenney

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