Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Poem about reparation (I think)


I have sorely neglected you my friend,
Cut you out of my will, stopped the letters
Between us by stopping the ones on my end.
How have you been all this time?

Has your penchant for beauty flagged?
Has your rage subsided or vanished?
Have all your photographs been tagged?
Do you still compose in rhyme?

I am languishing here in fetters it seems,
All my better dreams seem banished
To after thoughts and day dreams.
I am caught in the clutter and grime

Of sorting through pennies for silver collection,
Facing the ancestors, aping my betters,
Making repairs--there's natural selection:
Can sweeping be some sort of crime?

But still my garden remains for me
My dearest, deepest sanctuary.
Here I'm always on the mend,
Here my photographs are tagged,
Here are all my better dreams
Sorted out in perfect collection.
Here all comes together for me.

No comments:

Post a Comment