April’s fool: here I am, here you’ve found me,
where I’ve always been, never forgetting,
I don’t know about waiting, or missing,
or about time passing: that’s what time does,
right? But time won’t heal, they just say it will,
and there you go—twenty-five years, you say?
Have I counted the days, the months, the years?
Have you? Haven’t we just let life go on,
welcomed false certainties, buried our heads,
sought surrogates, conformed to others’ views?
Here I am, your April’s fool, forever
swimming in that blue sea not meant for me.
My poem appeared in the “How to” Series on SBP’s blog today. Thank you, Silver Birch Press! You can read it here.
This world's upside down,
where we rejoyce and celebrate
if we're negative...
this year, wary of making
plans that might dissolve.
Human and caring for one single day, then back to selfish ego.
A gorgeous squash soup in a stylish jade-black bowl: no time for pictures.
When opposites meet, several things can happen— some unexpected.
Fiery, more than bright, lonely in the darkest night, the full moon's ablaze.