Poem: On your asking

 

You asked me what it was all about,

Why men and women dwelt so much

On the slanting tangents

Of come vague philosophy

And what I felt it was, and why

It was like this?

 

Sometimes, then, to answer your questions,

I dress my thoughts in brilliant costumes,

Beautiful, eloquent words,

But to tell the truth

There is no way I can really say

Anything at all;

 

People have experienced these things--and these

Things are better felt, after all.

 

As to the 'why'

Hanging over your brow

Like a dark raincloud of expectancy--

That you must resolve for yourself

Before the thunder finally breaks…. 

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* Orig published in 'Bitter Oleander' , USA, 2012