in 9 hours i'll be on a plane to Prague...

rain on Charles Bridge, Prague

night nestles into every nook the street lamps cannot
-Matthew Nickel

yellow-orange glow cannot
be captured
on film. in my mind I
take pictures. sketch
out the light lined bridge,
brick and iron.
carve in my footprints,
erase clutter, breathe in fog.

by day, I imagine the saints
watching through sculptures.
five stars on his head, saint nepomuk
takes inventory of tourists,
whispers inspiration in street
artist ears, watches the sunset, guards
the Danube by night.

I close his eyes,
nestle up to you.
let my red dress bleed
into the raindrops, teach you
to waltz, close your umbrella—
it keeps out the streetlight.

two short poems, and one stumped ktb

ok poets, i have these two short little poems that are like skeletons for much greater poems. i just don't know how to fill them in. for the last week i've been reading them over and contemplating and i am really stuck. hopefully the basic ideas i am going for is already in the poems, they just need a little more meat. any ideas? other feedback? things you love? things you hate?...
*
Miscommunication

He said he didn’t get
my poetry. He asked me
not to follow
my dream over
seas. He wasn’t sure
if a three hour drive
was close enough to still
love me. He confessed
his eternal lack
of interest in my
God. He never understood why
I wanted to
wait. But when
he missed
the point of Counting
Crows, I knew
he’d never
know me.
*
Untitled

I wondered
who she was, if
she knew your taste
like I did. But then
I saw the way
you looked at her,
and I saw your
eyes smile at
me, and I knew.
She was your
hometown sunset,
and I am your
Parisian sunrise.