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 

and 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...