Aubade

Just a few months ago, I had to google the word "aubade" to learn what this particular type of poem is... now, I actually know what it means. So, I tried my cheeky little hand at one.


Aubade

A sonnet could describe your hair;
sandy and tousled under my chin,
and your freckled shoulders tangled in the stripes -
but a neat fourteen lines can’t capture
the way I begrudge the light
playing across your face.
The sunshine gets to spend each day with you,
piquing my jealousy.

The quiet comfort
as I brush my teeth and watch
your peaceful stillness -
- cannot adequately be explained in a haiku.

O, waking!
Sinews stretch toward a new day,
releasing a sigh for the passing of another night.
Sleepy, smiling eyes meet,
spreading a warmth neither an ode
nor the covers could contain.

Peanut butter kisses preclude reluctant responsibilities –
like clockwork, the garage door rises with the sun.
You walk away,
I steel myself against the glare,
and another aubade is complete.


July 26, 2010