Saturday, May 6, 2023

Lamentation 1

People that I admire have stopped letting their rage take over. One suggested that, instead of erupting, it might be good to write a poem.

At every red light

he stopped, head bowed, reverently,

over his cellphone.

This one is numbered. Just guessing, but it might be one of many.

No comments:

Post a Comment

In the woodlot

 It’s hard to say why I love working in the woodlot, but there’s this: A rowdy goose came over low. It was not a flight of geese, just one g...