Sunday, October 20, 2024

abscission

I have so many poems 
We’ll never finish - each a leaf 
In time - that hung on 
Till the wind came. 

Many fell from the northern wind 

Raised into a tornado by a western 
Wind - that raged against a growth 
That fell in the spring - a southern 

Death - sprung from a travesty of comedic errors 

So each poem has a start somewhere 
In there - yet most poems end with me 

As I travel the highways - sit in a cage 
Giving away numbers like a lottery so 

Many can leave - some stay - I’ll stay 
Until the dawn - sleep my days away 
Write poems - until there is no more 

To live