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Pastimes : A Poetry Corner

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To: Robert Douglas Hickey who wrote (1)	7/23/1998 7:00:00 PM
From: Robert Douglas Hickey	Read Replies (1) of 1582

MY BITTER BED Glowing golden on stolen afternoons her goldenhair a halo on my pillows my bed a sunlit sanctuary, an altar consecrating angelic carnality. A golden soul delighting in our delight consistently petitions our fusions until in the heart of a heat, riven with ecstasy we call it to us, our flash is fleshed. Golden innocent, ripped from trusting slumber exposed acknowledged discarded. Tarnished now my bitter bed bears love grown mundane, reduced to routine glorious union now the scratch of an itch dreams on a shelf, or in the garbage. The golden one that made us giants is lost we walk the earth forever diminished poet prince or pagan queen forsaken.

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