Tuesday, December 15, 2020


 Poem #18

This poem can’t figure out
Whether it's a distracted daydream
Or the proof of one who pays attention.
It’s both, one cannot doubt.
How can you conjure visions
Without the careful quilting
Of a lifetime of caught quickenings?
My son, my daughter,
Carbon, iron, oxygen.
Even the flights of imagination:
Gryphon, unicorn, fire breathing dragon.
There’s nothing new under the sun,
Just ever more interesting combinations.


No comments: