Three Poems
Catherine Moran

Honeymoon

I pretend the sun is foreign.

I am a lady
In high heels
Sitting alone
In a restaurant.


Boat

Music-fueled feeling,
These same notes
We once rode together
In my old boat.


Pocket

While you were in the washroom,
I have to admit, I stole a feel
Inside your pocket

Saw it sitting there empty, alone.

Carefully,
Aware I might be caught
At any moment.

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