Must Read More.
I was thinking
about Neruda and Rumi
and all these other folks
who I’ve never read.
Feel like such a phony -
I must read more
before I’m dead.
March 26, 2005 - Poem about Words
March 24, 2005 - Poem about Memories
Let’s Move On.
This house is just too small
For all these knick-knack memories
Stuffed in crevices and laid out
Like lingering refugees on the floor.
This junk we keep for old time’s sake,
This baggage piled but never sorted
Everywhere a story, everywhere a tale
And all those secrets never told.
It’s time we got this place
Cleared out, done up, and sold.
Let’s do it now, before
we grow too old.
Curtain Call.
The shoots are out and blood feels flow
Of inner tide and undertow. The sun,
Alert to season’s bow, pulls chord
Of cloud-winged fanfare call,
To signal start of this -
A most extraordinary
Of shows.