At my desk i am a copilot.
My vista is grand; i see beyond the
horizon.
The instrument panel
topped with talismans
(family photos, coasters,
a clock that actually ticks)
Directs my sight
Inward and outward,
Before and beyond.
i am only three stories above
a parking lot
Beside train tracks
And an office park,
But i fly
Toward meaning
High above myself
One breath at a time.
--Mr. Gobley
1 comment:
I hope that life is
keeping you soooo busy
that you have little to no
time for a poem-
living, poetry enough.
In anticipation of May
and maybe(time for)a poem,
i take the Liberty in
a copy/paste of words
in motion yrs ago...
"
This is the time when all is forgiven,
When love is made
And hurts are healed:
This is a shard of paradise
Dropped in our cupped and blistered palms.
"
You have a way...
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