Thunderstorm Eyes

His eyes are storm clouds
darkening
with the passing seconds
She doesn't want to count.
Eyes
waiting to unleash
their fury
upon her
face
arms
chest.
His eyes -
his thunderstorm eyes
are more him than he'd
like to believe
and he rains
he rains
he rains down upon her.
Filling, brimming
the eye-clouds
stagger and devastate
with no visible
silver lining.
His eyes -
his thunderstorm eyes
are more him than he'd
like to believe
and he reigns
he reigns
he reigns over her.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007

Marble bench

marble bench
cooled by the night air
quiet and alone
you feel nothing
for you've been
forged from stone
but I can feel
and am chilled
to the bone.

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007

Untitled

I write poems
on old, crumpled receipts
and movie stubs
that I happen upon
in my purse
because it suits me to do so
and because
I find it authentic
and romantic
in a fleeting sort of way

Copyright © Catherine Young, 2007