First Sight

Saw you at a conference, stared,

I’m afraid, into your dark brown eyes;

shortish, compact not skinny, hair

buzzed short under cap with visor;


shorts, T-shirt faded red, soft-spoken.

I could offer a poem as token

of the love I could cultivate,

if I could take you on a date.


You’d be kind in bed, I know,

and even sweeter to wake up to;

you’d say the words I’d need to hear,

or just hold me warmly near.


You would melt me with those eyes;

after fights we’d compromise.

You’re not the kind for single nights;

with one like you, I could make a life.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper


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