Three Poems by C. Cimmone

Meteor Shower

I tried to watch the meteor shower without you.

The dog was still - probably waiting for you like

He always does.

The frogs bellowed out - one after another -

and the trees gave a gentle shrug when the

humid air brushed past.

I waited for a burst of light -

Maybe comfort from a million miles away,

But nothing in this sky remembers that I'm

watching.

Nothing in this night is built for me.

Harvest Moon

I knew he was in jail yesterday,

But he called me anyway

To say he was sorry.

I told him we met on an accident,

That I wasn't meant to be here.

He said the jailer wrote down my name

And I stared at the shred of paper

Like it came from a history book.

The woman I want to be

Called him to say the Harvest moon

was hanging over the sea.

The woman I am

Missed him when he said

He couldn't see the auburn husk

From his window in the city.

"Today Doesn't Count"

I quit that job today.

You know - the one with the

Screaming lady and the telephones.

I forgot my coffee cup and I told

The taxicab driver to bring me here.

I thought we could flip through your

Old yearbooks and talk about that time

You went to jail for drinking too much the

Day after Christmas.

I don't have much to give anymore -

I spent it all on someone who

Never even told me I was pretty.

C. Cimmone is a poet and editor-at-large at Trampset.org. You can follow her on Twitter @diefunnier.