Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I found these little gems in my poetry journal circa 2004. I thought they were reminscent of two "conversations" I've been having lately.


To the thousand nights of loneliness
To the sound of love
Falling not on my ears
To the brief encounters
So quick in passing
And the inexhaustible truth
Underneath it all:

That I will never behold
My mother's love
Except reflected
In the love for my son

and this one, whom for now I'll dedicate to Holli.

I play this game all the time
Wonder what we would say
If we suddenly ran into another
What would I be dying to tell you?
Would I tell you about my work,
My son, my man, my mystery?
The dog instead of the horse,
The Also-Ran instead of the champ.
How am I doing these days?
I hardy know my self,
Though I spend all my time exploring

The way we shift and change
And yet still remain the same