2 poems, by CHRISTINE HERBSTRITT

the right guy

Heading home after the last class on a late fall afternoon.
As I walk across the college campus, he offers me a ride.
My house sits across the street from the parking lot.
“No thanks,” I point: “I live right there. Right there,”

A winter’s night of the new semester,
I go to our neighborhood hangout looking for my friends.
No one shows, except for the “B” crowd, or is it the “C”?
I sit watching the three stooges drink themselves under the table,
Excited to be seen in the company of a girl.

The bar door swings open and he came in,
Looking like a figure in a snow globe in a flurry of snow.
Not realizing that I was waiting for him,
I let out the breath that I had been holding.
.
We sat talking, holding hands under the table,
Words tumbling over each other.
All I could think was: “Just shut up and kiss me.”
Not wanting the night to end as the bar closed.
I said, pointing: “I live right there. Right there,”


too much

You wanted to grow old with me
& now you want me to act like I am newly in love.
You want a dog
& I am more like a cat.
You ask for the moon
& I give you my whole world.
You want me to think of you
& I do.
But I also think of the kids
& the house & cars & jobs & bills & groceries & meals & pets.
And sometimes I would just like to think of
Nothing.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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