Saturday, December 3, 2011

Night People

She lifts her Friday-weary head
from off the pillow
Her eyes don't bother to focus
in the darkness of the room
At the high point of the day

Heavy curtains shield her
from the certainty of Saturday
as her lover's heart races in slumber
A lazy arm drapes over her supple form
and he draws himself closer to her warmth

They will rise in an hour
make love and subside once more
into Decembers of love
Imaging distant waters
on far away beaches
illuminated by plastic stars

When the day is done
They will have begun
to repair themselves
for another night
in the Here and Now

They will share
breakfast in bed at suppertime
 — A cheese danish
as cold as the conspiring winter
as nourishing as a stolen kiss

They will share
their bodies once again
Another cold day
will have melted between them
and laid to rest with the absent sun

— Mark Butkus


  1. .. far away beaches
    illuminated by plastic stars... that was the first line which gave me this cold feeling...dunno..for me this reads like struggling to stay warm, close the world out, dream of things that will never happen and take the second best... maybe i'm completely wrong... just how it feels to me... leaves me sad.. but frickin' well written mark..

  2. yeah definitely ...cold, empty feelings...getting through the days robotic. the writing is great, definitely not empty

  3. I think it's a poem about lovers preparing for winter. Not cold at all, they find warmth in their hearts and most of all love.

  4. Interesting perspectives. I see it as a festive, skewed urban update to Frank Loesser's "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

  5. you know...a day in bed making love and having breakfast at dinner with some interspersed dreaming does not sound bad at all...ha...i actually enjoyed this...was not sad to me...

  6. love in deep & dark december, in the day.
    sounds like something I missed in my youth, alas!
    nice piece, very fleshy and sensuous.
    I like the lines where the cold day melts between them.
    very good.

  7. It's the only way to survive a winter.

  8. My Friday weary head wishes one and all a very Merry Christmas!