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Last Poems, Pathetically
by Ken HarnischComes the sunset of things
And I always thought there'd be more regret
Or more apprehension
At leaving a cherished place
Ah, but that was before i knew
What jaded hearts can do
To alter both poets and the man
One can remember, and not regret
And not all vanishings need epitaphs
Or parades to mark their passiing
The words may fall elsewhere
There certainly seems to be enough of them
Gathered in this woolen hat to last a lifetime
And the best have a way of falling on the heart
Even when it seems a stone impervious
To all but age and cynicism
Too bad
This was a nice place to feel the sun
And laze into the afternoons, with
Pigeons and poets cooing
On the flagstones
Where
in the words of an old sweet song
You could go
And forget about life for awhile
10/15/2006 Posted on 10/15/2006
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Paganini Jones on 11/18/06 at 09:21 PM "There is something of death in all of us",
She says, turning to her runes.
"But no sense in running to court it."
She turns them randomly.
Plucks first one, then 2 more.
He, cursing a white van,
Glaring at the lights
and the ticking clock
is unaware.
"What's that?" he says,
"What is it you know?"
She, shaking her head,
meets his glance in the mirror
and smiles. |
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