My Poetry

The Circle

The heavens drizzle and flashes ashen gray

The commuters freeze in confused unison

As the hap hazardous traffic clout chaos

Still the sun shines

As the birds fly

I'm over being over.

A man lies languidly,homelessly

Another struts by immaculately

As winter opposes spring

So do movies with James Dean

Juxtapose a Steinway's keys

I'm over being over.

The Bell will still toll

The Hours will still tick

As will Pride with Prejudice

So will Sense and Sensibility

With such Great Expectations.

I'm over being over.

Lambs will squeal ceaselessly

From such bloodied slaughterhouses

As eagles-hawks brutalize their prey

Sons are fathers and sons again

So will roses bloom in May

I'm over being over.

Life and Death will whirl

In such simple basic cycles

As close as Love is to Hate

As true as Wuthering Heights

Of love and pain in Murakami

I'm over being over.

For my best friend Eliza for her loyalty and support over the years.