a house ponders
A House
Ponders
"Death be not proud."
The formality of it,
the style of bullets
dancing in Ballroom A
to warm a winter afternoon.
Goodness disappears.
They told us this
is the way a world turns,
told us to define "acrimonious."
Young and eager to learn, we did.
We were loyal citizens.
They told us that
a random day might be
cerulean or grass green or beet purple.
We denied our ears
and put faith in our eyes.
On what summer door
are sixty-five fragile retirements posted?
When we come in old age to knowledge,
we trust ourselves more
to believe less of what the turning world creates.
Jerry W. Ward, Jr. November 18, 2021
Comments
Post a Comment