Putting an Address Book to Good Use

My address book has come apart. There's not
Much point to grieving, even less to transferring
The names. The bulk of them no longer matter:
Former neighbors, former friends, acquaintances
From jobs and streets now wholly gone or left
Behind. So many entries name the dead, as, I
Guess, I should have known. I, too, am old.
I turn away, and, in this house, where I am
By myself for hours, sometimes days, I place
The pages beneath kindling, then burn them away.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 58 times
Written on 2019-12-21 at 01:14

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