J. Carrington Scott
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Sometimes you matter more than Poetry


A night grown old
and breathless.
We spend all our words
on all the unsaid
of all this time passed
in Laughter.
And looking your way,
space defined by your still so familiar lines,
your hand having found its home
in the arch of my spine,
your head layed down
in helpless care
for all my losses,
I remember just how much
You can be
Reality
That sometimes you matter more
than Poetry
That for all the confusion
here you are, so dearly,
And so i remember to feel
Grateful.


Sometimes you matter more the Poetry © 2000 by J. Carrington Scott
All rights reserved.