Calamities, distant or vague

Bring tremors to the mind

Where do you want to be

When the sun goes down?

 

Can you be anywhere,

Ubiquitous like the sun?

But the mind though untrammeled

Can not occupy all spaces.

 

A fisherman bruised by absence of fish

Will pursue with ferocity

Any hints of trout presence

In whatever weather or distance.

 

He will not be deceived by color

Or pitch of whirling waters

Or exasperated by any sinking thought

The oars are focused, desire is steeled.

 

Does begin the intellectual incarnation

A reverence for beauty and truth

The universe forever expanding

I’m feverishly reaching for your hand.

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A day

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Quietly your self worth diminishes

like salt on a pavement

your voice loses its tone, forgotten.

Who will remember you?

A shadow in a system.

You cry. New tide comes,

covers the muddy river bank.

The white egret returns.

You survive another day.

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Note: Last week Mrs. Abstract and I and our two friends toured Andy Warhol’s art Exhibit at MOMA in San Francisco, California. Very interesting.

Books I’m currently reading: Moby Dick by Melville and Paris, 7 A.M. by Liza Wieland, a novel about a young Elizabeth Bishop.