Waking the next morning
to find my jacket draped
over the back of a chair
and the rest of my clothes
scattered across the floor in
attitudes of calculated abandon
I turn to look at you
trying to recall
what brought us here
and wondering how
I ended up lying beside you
remembering the wine
and the laughter
and in no hurry to be gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem