I've always been too happy
with what I write and I suspect, not entirely
with justification. Criticisms, appreciations; appreciations,
suggestions; suggestions, complaints - where would I be
but where I am?
Without them: drifting
in a wide, spacious void of my own
making, created by shockwave from the center
of an impact crater, or
a spreading wake from the dropped stone
that is a piece of work
- my work.
to the bottom
without raising so much as a bubble.
The surface's smoothness returns.
Echoes of diminishing ripples
finally reach onlookers gathered by the shore, who
gape out at the point where the dive fell through
and, catching each others' eyes,
Must be pleased
But I can't hear you.
I was pleased, but now
I am sinking down
to where there's never been any air.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.