Saturday, August 21, 2010

Finding Purple Sea

On the road I do not sleep,
but rather nap in fitful blocks of time.

I stare through darkness at some plastic box
with glowing luminescence red, or green.
11:47, 1:29, 2:33, 3:08.
Times I would not see if you were here,
or I was home.

I miss my nightly kiss.
Your whispered, “I love you.”
My signal day is done and all is well.

I’m free to sail upon night’s purple sea.
Outward turn my inward mind,
shed reality.
Wake refreshed at break of day.

But on the road,
night goes on and on.
Till groggily I rise,
stumble into day,
yawn, and rub my puffy eyes.
Find the nearest vendor of a caffeinated brew.
Stimulate my fog filled mind,
to imitate the energy
that seems to come so naturally
when I wake next to you.


  1. Only if you are married and have been on the road alone will can you truly understand how honest this is. likin' all.

  2. I should have titled it "Too many motels".

  3. So good. Have you had your poems published as a collection?

  4. Thanks Vee. Yes, I have self published the poems.

  5. I am enjoying your new slant on your blog VERY MUCH! I just have to say though, you pretty much described menopause to a "T"! LOL

  6. Pappy,

    I love this poem, it sounds so much like something my husband would say or write for/to me.
    It also shows the tender side of two tough retired police officers.

    Have a great weekend and sleep well!

  7. Finding Purple Sea: What a poem. I unfortunatley undertand it very well. Nice word Pappy:)


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