Dated Evidence

Spider plants hang everywhere;
they are badly in need of water.
Half a mug of cold coffee
with lipstick stains
rests atop the strewn morning paper.
A spring breeze
rustles the dusty curtains
and scatters ashes 
from an overwhelmed ashtray.
Traces of you                                                               
are not enough.

Mistaken Identity

He moves
into tomorrow’s first light
and the ladies love him
and curse him
but he never forgets
the name,
the place
or the time.
And in bad times
when they need
to be held
he will devote
his entire self to them
and ask nothing in return.
He knows no boundaries.
Tears could never be
measured against smiles.

When I first met him
he was mercury
and by the time
we became friends,
he was gone.

by R. Gerry Fabian, a retired English instructor and the editor of Raw Dog Press. He has been published in various magazines, some literary, since 1970. He is currently working on a new set of poems.

image: Eyesplash (Creative Commons BY-NC-ND—no changes)