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I will write one poem for her, and then
I'll write another just for me, and, she'll
Be absent from this one. Since that's so,
I won't be sad. I'll be somewhere with
Reggie goofing off, or I'll be with my
Old friend, Mike, dead drunk in
Bremerton, or I'll be just across the
Bay with Sue, the sister of my wife,
Who I have loved some thirty years,
Or I'll be back upon the boat my
Wife and daughters, sister, brother
And his wife took sailing around
Islands in a turquoise sea, or I'll
Be on my motorcycle, threading
Madly through the cars which
Go not half so fast as I, and,
Wherever I end up, I'll have a smile
On my face. I'll speak. Others
Will speak to me, and she, who
Has been banished from this poem,
Will not use her darkness or her
Silence to defeat me. She is gone,
And I am happy. This is why
I thought I ought to write
A poem just for me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 56 times
Written on 2017-02-25 at 00:14

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