A collection of poems by mike hackmer

| Morning Prayer |

Our bed feels so incomplete with you gone 


as if you were more essential than pillows 

                                                                                         or sheets 

or the very mattress underneath.



I find myself stirring all night long

like a child without the security of light 

I am afraid of shadows on the wall 

and every little noise in the dark.


By the time morning comes

I've used up the gentle comforts you

left behind

                                        soft smells of perfume on the pillowcase 

                                        traces of mascara 

                                        tiny strands of hair 


I need the greater comforts now.


Your touch

your lips

the view of your naked back


                              and the ticker tape embrace we share

when making love

followed by the eating of one another's eyes and 




                                                                                       wide smiles.


Hurry back to bed...