Imposed Composure
Late at night...
As owls watch from perches high,
Rings worn are slipped off.
Mixed drinks in bars are sent,
With winks hinting...
A discreet private meeting meant,
Is suggested with consent.
Eyes connect...
When 'last call' is heard,
Without one word these 'cooing birds'
Lock motel doors behind them.
Welcoming a sunrise drive...
No mention of husbands or wives,
Or which lies to tell selling deception
Is revealed!
This is concealed,
Hoping spouses do not smell a rotten egg,
Scented with tuna munched before lunch leaks...
Through imposed composure,
Returning home from these long and tiring
Business trips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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