Tuesday, August 11, 2009

February: Year-day 49

February: Year-day 49 Question: Will I actually make it through this year, writing a poem a day? And if I do, will I end up old, bored, and stiff, and have more deadened than enlivened you? I hope not. Oh, I won't be going boo around every corner, or paddling a skiff through every marsh/ you walk near; but don't whiff by unnoticing; I am somewhere, new. You'll sense, just as you have before, the warts on the great umber squash, the hummingbird coptering near moss phlox, the crazy bat yipping out of the mouth of night, the courts of hard decisions. Everyone knows, word, image, play; everyone's a poet, a cat. -

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.

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