Short Reedy Poems

You say you are a
Saint. Your reign
Is of no indent. We 
Must wrest 
Out our mindless doubt. Your 
Tenet is 
Without debt. YES, 
That was just at the 
Start.  No one 
You called stupid
As you ought 
Not do so even now. But 
How do we 
Reject this doubt
With your floret withered;
When you 
Now break our reedy necks
Not our plummet?...

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The stage was already bare
       after this last performance
 New dawns will come 
Yet you feel the game is over
Anticipation has changed to resignation
   Later on, a hand will reach
for the golden ring  
       New voices will be heard
  shattering the peace of the valley
Your last triumph is 
        not forgotten 
   The reedy voices of despair 
will soon be irrelevant
  Sunshine warms
       the cold brown earth 
Bringing hope in its wake...

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After Derek Walcott’s Poem

We have this in common
Sandy spit
Empty hours to walk alone

Needing to find use
For the forgotten
In the eyes of other people

Washed up
Softens all tones
To sandblasted blue glass

Eyes, drawn out toward sky
The driftwood branch has stars
Or rafts toward uncertain lands

Toward a fire pit nest
where paper cups makes castles
and feathers, a reedy sail

for those whose wings
have fluttered far and long
and settled down
on a temporary, final beach....

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