My Nose Considering Your Nose
My nose is now considering your nose,
The first touch is cold like a greeting from a raindrop’s mouth.
Our noses touch; and this kiss creates a tickling song from our lips
While our noses begin to entertain a love
Growing inside our eyes, lips, ears, tongues
And, of course, our noses’ hearts.
My nose, on this late night bus, is now considering your nose,
Becoming excited by the possibility of our meeting in a few short hours.
My nose is in love with your nose,
Knowing nothing but the miracle of smell and the fact of this love for your nose.
Traveling on the 8:05 Duluth bound
I find the Greyhound driver tapping
His solid plump red fingers
On the steering wheel,
To the music in his head.
There are moments I can hear his song,
Feel his thoughts,
Understand his voice.
The driver and I stare searchingly at the centerline.
Soundless and strong
Does not lie.
True to its accepting curves, yellow guidance, and
The centerline goes on and on—
—Patrick T. Randolph, Murphysboro, IL