Having a ragtop
lets you wave at the geese V,
hoping they don’t bomb.
OR
With my ragtop down,/
I wave at the geese V and/
hope they don’t bomb me.
Having a ragtop
lets you wave at the geese V,
hoping they don’t bomb.
OR
With my ragtop down,/
I wave at the geese V and/
hope they don’t bomb me.
Though you and me may/
disagree, we should be glad/
we have voices free.
When Dave’s seat choice is done/
it’s understood:/
There’s always fun!/
And fun is good!/
In the right section/
we can yell and scream!/
Insult goalie’s imperfection!/
and holler: “Go Team!”/
Your ticketed section/
shouldn’t impact your seat picks:/
Make a defection/
to Section Twenty-Six!/
That’s what I did!/
‘Cuz that’s where the fun is!
She gazes eastward./
Surf, sun, sand, sea rise and fall./
Her breathing’s mirrored.
Sometimes we must gaze/
through another’s lens to see/
our own true beauty.
Will you teach me,
and let me see
how you’ll reach me
without poetry.
Send your smile
from your sweet face.
Rest your gaze awhile;
fill my empty space.
Talk to me deep
with dulcimer tones.
In my mind creep
through touch, computers, phones.
Then, at last, when we again meet,
I’ll savor your wisdom with no repeat.
Sometimes I think in/
haikus. Sometimes I think in/
Blues. Sometimes I rhyme.