Ah, Poem

Never know where you will take me

Never know where you will lead

Or what you will wake within me

Where syllables intercede

Never know what you will whisper

What reason your rites unfold

Whether you are miss or mister

Wild or bridled, young or old

Never know if you bring laughter

Or a melancholy dread

Sometimes before, sometimes after

Torn between my heart and head

Never know how you will greet me

Fist-a-cuff or tender kiss

when or where you wait to meet me

That’s the way a poem is

Will you be a landscape painter
Or a flower or a sigh/sky
Never know how you will answer
Is it hello or good-bye

© Janet Martin