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learning seed
by Charlie Morgana rusty door hinge creaking hello? goodbye?
at my body when i walk out the back door;
could be both, walking out or in? same.
young man asks me, ...'are your stories finished'?
i say, "only the ones with coffee stains."
his query, a drizzly rain: wet but doesn't fall.
moonlight chases me to my coffee;
settles. waiting.
joins me later at my job of wrestling clocks.
10/23/2007 Posted on 10/23/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 10/23/07 at 04:37 PM Every encounter is an opportunity to both learn and teach. We miss so many of them. This does make the mind roll! |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 10/24/07 at 03:58 PM Written and sounding words in a deep pause, sensations' gap extends into such poem's speech, I hear, I feel the "creaking hinge" "hello" "goodbye"s, your "wrestling clocks" the almost "rain" (the "wet that does not "fall") and "waiting" see the stain (sage moonlike imprinted eclipse) on your time's timeless page. |
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