Tag Archives: serendipity

Not a statue

70s, Poems, ,

We ran trips
              in the park
                  overlooking paradise,
    lost our way
               when every way was equal
forgot God
           while praising Him,
     thought we were
                 our shadows
         in the midst
   of all this light.

Then she swam
            in a man-made lake
       while I meditated
              by a man-made stream.

Little children
            crossed a bridge
                                  to me.
    “Come here! It’s a statue!”
          “No, he’s sleeping.”
                           “Touch him.”
  “No, you touch him.”
          “Look!
              His skin moves
                     when I touch him.
     He’s not a statue.”

                                     1973

Some Place Else

70s, Poems, ,

I’ll be blessed!
As I was trying
to start a poem,
                               a whatever words
                                             flow
               from the tip of my
        pen
                       poem,
                                        an ant crawled around
                               on my hand,
                  down the pen,
                                      and off it’s tip
                                                  onto the very paper
                                           I wanted
                                        to fill.

     Now
                 he’s wandering
       through the . . . . .
   No,
             by the time I write it
      he’s
                                    some place
 

                                                                      else.
1970, on a rooftop in Andalusia