Poetry

The target of poetry is the soul. The goal is to attract the soul like a flower attracts a butterfly. But sometimes it is a thistle on which the butterfly lands. Who can predict the pattern of a butterfly’s flit? Poetry changes our flit plans, not always predictably.





Monday, January 12, 2009

The Old Passion

The Old Passion

You have to be old,
To be old enough to know
That old people
Don't really get old
Inside they are excited about life
Like when they were young
Oh, they have changed, grown
Still are growing, changing
And they age
Like a lion gets used to its cage
Discerning the limits of his freedom
In the human zoo
But the old passion paces inside
The same and alive
Pausing to sniff at the lock
Waiting out the clock.

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