There
There is so much we cannot fix:
a dear friend massed
with yellow glads; the green baize that masks
the upturned earth; the tumor
that takes over the torso;
time spent
more carelessly than change
(loose minutes rarely found
in turned-out pockets);
all those difficult years
when contentment was there–
there–there within our grasp had we just
grasped less;
the flotsam straws we gripped,
drowning rafts, that sparkle now
in the current of all that’s past,
catching against far shoals–
there–there–
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Here’s a revised poem for dVerse Poets Pub second anniversary. Congratulations to dVerse, headed so skillfully and generously by Brian Miller and Claudia Schoenfeld, wonderful poets in their own right, and incredibly thoughtful and energetic teachers and mentors, in their commenting and their example. They, and the other dVerse staff, both past and present, as well as the many poets who participate in the community, have helped me a great deal in my own poetry, and certainly in my sense of myself as a poet. Great thanks!
The photo above by the way is the one I took the other day of a spider web by a stream bed, knotted with water droplets, over that beautiful stone, which to me at least, looks like a heart. If you cannot see full image, please click on it.
ManicDDaily 
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