Poem at 4.17 AM
You left me with all the pieces of the engine laid on rags – garage floor
I sat there wearing my nightgown trying to make sense of the puzzle – there are no instructions and I’m not a mechanic
I sat there for a year.
On some nights I imagined them chess pieces, and played against
you, them, myself
On some other nights I wrote on walls with no ink or feather
about snake charmers
and wolves in sheep’s clothing
Narcissus was tired
The Prince’s treasure, under lock, turned out to be a room full of mirrors.
Mornings I thought
For a summer I made sculptures and looked at photos
That night in the warehouse, our distracted dance, our last
You drove away
with an engine-less car.
San Diego, November 2012
sketchbloom.com 
Your poems are bright spots in my blog life. This one manages to be sad and funny at the same time. I laughed when I read “You drove away with an engine-less car”.
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It gives me so much joy to know my quirky poem brought a smile and that these sometimes scattered thoughts are brightness to you. Oftentimes I ‘see’ the setting of a poem, it comes as an image, vivid and undeniable… in this case, the engine pieces on the garage floor. All ways to solve ourselves. Thawnk you for your comment Mrs. Daffodil.
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