I wrote the following poem a few weeks ago now, but lest anyone be concerned, it does not reflect my current feelings. It was me on my
commute harking back to a much earlier time in my life. I imagine most people
go through phases like this. They just don’t write about them.
THE EMPTY
I see a pinprick of sun,
red on clouds to the east.
All else is gray.
Sky.
Water.
Road.
My empty heart.
I am a wave passing through.
Leaving a moment’s ripple,
that soon dies away.
No trail behind me where I went.
No path ahead where I go.
The world is a hollow place
and I have left no mark.
----
Even when I’m feeling good I don’t tend to write upbeat
poetry. I guess I’m just a moody SOB. But in an effort to be more positive, I
have constructed the following ditty. I do hope you enjoy.
THE LITTLE BIRD
Saw a little bird hop hopping all around
Eating the seed I’d spread on the ground
He hopped to the left and hopped to the right
He hopped all day; it was quite a sight
You could see his hopping was all for fun
As he bopped around in the glorious sun
The day passed sweetly and evening fell
Then came cat, without his bell
