June o8, 2o13
As I said before, a little bit behind on posting poems here. This one was written about 3 months ago. The pic is of Patricia Crespin. I took it several years ago and have used it on other poems.
Water
The
weight of stone
compared
to dreamis lighter than a feather.
The
moon’s bright laugh
a nothing
but a misty blue adrift within your eyes.
This lifetime
of dark barrooms,
drunken
insults, angry words with angry patrons,
could
never pound away,
drive
away, dry up that river,that ocean you’ve become.
My feet
could never overcome
the
need for travel, their grand desireto kick at the cat, the crumbs of bread
that lead
the way back home. Now,
blind
they are and mute and dead they are to everything… but you.
rrw o3-14-13 (rewrites o6-o8-13)
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