Poem – A Thousand Cars Honking

A Thousand Cars Honking


I know nothing about love.

Love knows nothing about me.

The cat washes his paw. Rubs behind his ear.

Stops bathing, looks at me.

He is tired of my secrets. They are not secrets.

They walk across my face

Like the cat crosses the garden, moonlight indifferent

The insects talking of their love.


In the workshop of my heart,

My muddled mind, my soul builds love with wire,

Wood, paper, iron and copper, the feather fallen

From the crow, the pup’s baby molar

Glued on top, I turn it upside down and hum.

It must be love. I add two more staples and take up

The sandpaper, rubbing it smoother, finding a way.


You tell me about love. Past and present.

The repetition of love. The tenderness of puzzles,

A round of hide and seek,

The tag and race, the colours of summer

In your voice, sudden coolness of summer rain. 

I hear the thunder booming coming closer. 


It is not like my hammer.

Tapping in a few new tacks to keep the cover

From slipping off too fast.  Gifts, small

And many, moments inside the day.


I see what I can see and watch for the rest

When my mind lets my heart run.


You are a kite and I want to be the wind.

It is all slow dance, the same music playing

In our heads. A thousand cars honking

Racing by, blinding us with their lights.



Author: William J. Gibson

62 year old - writer/photographer Canadian, survived open heart surgery, received kidney transplant, sometimes dour, sometimes amusing, over six feet in height, severely follicle challemged

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s