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Poem

They've Gone

Your children are dead.
Go now and lay down your head.
They've fled, it is said.


Second Time

You have for so long
Reached out for that second one -
But grab the first, first!


Sob

Oh, a tear or tear?
Crying because it was torn?
Ah, a tear or tear?


Again and Again

So good to repeat!
Again to repeat again.
To repeat! So good!


Folk

Do singers of folk
Please other folk with their folk?
Folk, of course, love folk.


Maybe Your Last, Old Friend

Pooch, oh be aware.
This is called a day? Oh, dear,
I suspect not so.


So, So, So

Lives are so like books.
So readily torn apart.
Books are so like lives.


Whether the Weather

I have a new coat.
I'd love to wear it, and so
I beg for rain. But . . .


Say Again

I can hear the voice
But cannot make out the speech.
Ah, so much for words.


Out

You did, of course, leave
That door unslammed. And it said
Much, oh so much, more.


Completion

Ah, so it is so:
There is nothing more to say.
This makes me happy.


And Here is the News

On top of the hour
Tens of thousands of people
Talk to microphones.


Sather Rilly

Do jumbs not wordle?
I so six up all my mounds.
Strife can be so lange!

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