Poetry

HORS D'OEUVRE

All poems are about the same thing…

Melody, rhythm and harmony;

And something more that can’t be named with precision.

If I could cut that something out with a knife and spread it on a cracker

So you could eat it as a happy hour snack

That would be the way I’d do it.

But it’s more like the fox in my garden

You’re lucky if, now and then, you can catch a glimpse of its tail.

UPON SEEING AN ACQUAINTANCE

I could break these buildings

with my voice

if I could but speak

and if these bricks

could so much as murmur

they would break your heart.

"Let there be poetry" says I.

No one listens

(not even the buildings)

but

this doesn't stop

the poetry from greeting me

with a wink and a smile

as it comes bouncing by.