Santa Fe Poetry Broadside: Bobby Byrd: This Morning in Our Bed

Issue #30, December, 2002 : -- -1 -2 3 -4 -5 -6 -7
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Bobby Byrd

This Morning in Our Bed

(Monday, July 29, 2002. Yesterday the news was all about the nine miners in Somerset, PA, who were trapped deep in the earth for 77 hours before being rescued. They had tethered themselves together because, in the event they died, they would all be found.)

This morning the summery feathery breeze
licks at the hair of my naked legs. Outside
the window I see a blossom on your red hibiscus
shimmering and bending, the leaves
rich and green like money.
Money.
We have never been much good with money.
Here we are at the front door of old age
and we don't have much money to count as our own.
I do have that new book of poems
where Cold Mountain and his buddy Pickup
are sticking out their tongues and laughing at us.
Pigeons are cooing on the roof of the house next door
where our daughter lives.
Life is very simple, Cold Mountain says.
Sometimes the miners climb out of the cave.
Sometimes they die in the cave.
He doesn't cut us any slack, huh?
Down the street dogs are barking at each other.
A hummingbird sucks at the sugar water.

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Issue #30, December, 2002 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.