February 12, 2015


Moments before I was to be born
we were in Washington Park
in Albany in January in the cold, again
the burning sage, candle flame not enough
to keep the flowers from freezing. But
the blazing hearts & hot breath of words
lifted the beret up to the Poet’s lap.

Later, more lines of verse, whiskey, beer
even cake, remembering the poets gone
the old poets here, younger voices
& pens now write us into future Januaries.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Lovely poem, you lovely man... xo