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written by: Cass Wilson

 

We sit together, he and I
On the faded couch
Slouching under a threadbare blanket
Shivering in a shabby motel room
Watching the fall of heavy rain
Blurry through the dirty windows
Form swirling brown puddles
Across the deserted parking lot
A clock without batteries
Renders time insignificant
The abscence of ticking
Ensures the moment lasts
He glances at me
Catches my eye
With a glint in his he asks
If I regret it
If I’m homesick at all
If I’m happy
I look over to the bed
The tangled mess of paisley sheets
Bring a flush to my cheeks
A smile to my lips
A warmth to my heart
As I lean in closer, shivering
But not with the cold
I whisper to him
This moment
In this dreary motel room
With you
Is my perfect idea of home

Cass Wilson

Cass Wilson

I am an amateur poet from the UK
Cass Wilson

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