Monday, April 16, 2012

A poem at 4:51 in the afternoon

Usually I write in the morning.  I was too busy today... way too busy to write.  When I finally sat down about twenty minutes ago, this is where I ended up.  Hmmm.

Is nothing like
Morning poetry.
By 4:51
So many decisions
Have been made,
So many people encountered,
The air now so full of pollen,
My ears irrevocably
Plugged.
By 4:51
The redbud has now dropped its purple.
I can no longer make heads or tails
Of the day.
No
A poem at 4:51
Is nowhere near
As fresh
As one written
In the morning,
Even though the sun
Has just emerged.
I can tell
This is nothing
Like the morning.

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