Tuesday, August 22, 2017

MY DAY, a poem


          
         What is there
          to say
          nothing happens
          in my day

          Evenings are much
          the same
          no one else
          to blame

          Treasure pleasure
          in taking
          life’s measure
          ignore the aching

                   (Aug. 22, 2017)




Wednesday, August 2, 2017

A WOMAN IN WINTER, a poem

          
          Life has burned away
          leaving a body in disarray
          a woman grown very old
          suffering never-ending cold

          Every day is wintertime
          gone is the warmth so sublime
          no longer a promise of spring
          to make the aged soul sing

          Does celebration or doom
          await in the misty gloom
          no knows what lies ahead
          ignore all trivial dread

                              (Aug. 2, 2017)