You and I will read our ways
into the eternal whatever—
questioning, wondering,
wandering under skies grown gray
with concern or maybe apathy.
We’ll play outside
until the streetlights come on
like small meteors in their glass houses.
We’ll ride sweet motorbikes
of conversation home
where wine waits for us
in those ceramic cups you love.
The apparitions of our lost
and illegible loves will float
across your kind kitchen table
then disappear into the pillows
where we lay our heads and sleep.
Martina Reisz Newberry has been writing for 60 years. A passionate lover of Los Angeles, it is frequently a “player” in her poems; she currently lives and writes there with her husband, Brian Newberry, a Media Creative.
