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Showing posts from August, 2021

They Cut Down The Damson Tree

  I keep postponing Writing the poem More an obituary Truth is my heart sinks Each time I come across One of its fruits Still lying in some corner of the garden Haven’t been able…yet Write of how I will miss the snow of its blossom In the height of spring Write about the guilt Although it was not up to me Tree wasn’t mine Only the shade that came from him Birds have not been back since The devastating vast event A solitary dove hops about Like my soul wandering Where her home is gone It’s no coincidence That since that day Of motors, of noise from hell The Sawing, cutting, killing Of the giant who protected my garden, Pandora’s box burst open Hope must still be in there Somewhere...  

From Odes to Homeopathy

  My Achilles Heel Like a bee behind a glass, head on, I churn away at the usual questions: where am I heading? This or that? On and on I bang. The Achilles heel in my left leg has become thick and hardened, gets sore from walking, and in the mornings makes me hobble. The soreness is there since waking, a sore, hard, lump where the tendon should be soft and supple, elastic and strong, makes me move about like a duck. I take Ruta 30, which, oh surprise! —never ceases to amaze me— walking is just fine. 2019