The Ride
It sounded old; and if a stranger could
Just before dark,
Love. A given: no one mentioned.
He couldn’t see you honey you, honey you.
Doing it to us all; us all.
What else but love? It sounded old.
The best years got in its way.
Nothing in the world.
To be a woman; them old hearts.
Can’t own; can’t lose. Can’t have to be.
Love, love, love. Love’s
Going to kill you, honey.
No one mentioned. Love.
Crawled, glittered.
Ride it, ride it dark
(c) Umansky 2009
blog of poet, leah umansky 
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