“Collecting My Thoughts” by Rudy Thomas

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I watch you run. Images of you keep
tugging at the writer
I am. You are Spartan, an ebony Venus,
your stride is poetry in motion. Come nightfall,
I will create a poem from such tidbits.

If my poem were your body,
I would unwrap it,
take off everything,
& capture the blush
on your cheek.

If my poem were your body,
& you would not let me touch it,
nor add new words, nor sing
its praises like a thrush
at twilight on Old Seventy Creek,

I would paint you knee deep
in the flow of clear, cold water,
& hang the canvas
on my bedroom wall
where morning sunlight hits.

-Rudy Thomas

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