The Simplicity of One Room
The simplicity of one room,
In a cheap road-side motel,
A strange refuge for one night.
So, keep your shoes on.
I have arrived at this lodging,
After hours in the car,
Watching my life slowly unwind,
In the rearview mirror.
Sleeping in a sanitized bed,
Nothing can keep me awake,
Not even the ra-tat-tat click,
Of the broken fan.
Alert, suddenly in the night,
You were lying next to me,
Sleeping in a different time zone,
I could not touch you.
We rose and improvised breakfast,
However I forgot plates,
So we used an ice bucket lid,
To serve left overs.
We ate on the edge of the bed,
Staring at the T.V. screen,
But it was dark and I saw you,
Staring back at me.
I heard a car start outside and,
Surged through my entire body.
It’s time to move on.
Leave before the maid arrives with,
Her cart of regrets.
Just wake up, get dressed, take what’s yours,
And walk out the door.
Wait, a foot steps back,
One last look around,
I see just an empty room.
Breakfast served on styrofoam?
I got miles to go before I’m home.
© 2018 William Neil
Beautiful in the Morning
You are beautiful in the morning,
when you awake untouched,
by the tangled chaos of your dream state,
your face washed clean by cotton sheets.
I wait in the kitchen for your first sunlit smile
I have slept peacefully,
my face buried in your pillow.
You walk through the shadow laced floor.
The curtains, full of cool dawn air,
part and the light touches everything:
the paper you have left on the table,
a knife in the sink,
a glass on the counter,
We embrace offering each other the gentleness
that we have acquired from a night of unconsciousness.
I breath in the scent of your body.
you exhale your past, calmly.
together we breath in the stillness
that the morning has brought to us.
© 2018 William Neil
Desire is blind,
so follow the beat of the drum.
The stare of our eyes,
Being seen by one another.
Dark music of the soul,
She-wolf howling from afar.
You spin to the left,
then the right,
Toes tracing the words between us.
Pause, the record stops,
Flipped, the needle gently laid down,
Then sliding through the grove,
To the toe tap beat of wood.
Bodies meet half way,
Gently back and then forward again,
Swaying out of phase,
Fall into darkness face to face,
Full stop, all together.
Desire has slipped its clutch.
You stand still and drop,
This first tango will never stop.
© 2017 William Neil