Little surprises

I have a tendency to write thoughts down in random places and thus forget these scraps of paper in random places. I picked up Theodore Roethke's On Poetry & Craft tonight and found a little poem I wrote for my husband when I was clearly very drunk (he asked me how I knew I was drunk when I wrote it, and my answer was simply, "penmanship.")

I came by this book in early 2012, and would have had to have written this before I became pregnant with my daughter, so I can feel safe in narrowing when I wrote it.

I truly have no memory of it, but I found it to be a sweet little surprise and I'm happy to have decided that it was a Roethke kind of night.

Unnamed Poem #1

I've always had a 
single heartbeat.

I'll tap to the tune of your feet
and your heart'll tap
to mine.

Together we tap tap
and we're just fine.

Hold my hand-holding hand,
off we go to meet the band.

Summer, 2012