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a day, a life.
by Charlie Morganit's so easy to walk with wind.
so tough when the wind is tired,
and you are left to fan the trees,
and all lakes lose their ripples.
tides stop short, no beaches lapped.
old men crickety from osteoporisis,
throw their canes, hit the lazy wind.
mule-ishly, she grumbles herself awake.
a long day rides proud like the sherrif
of tombstone on a sobering-cool morning
as all the chaparral's scurry to safety
dodging the dark bent arrow in the sky. 11/18/2007 Posted on 11/19/2007
Copyright © 2025 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 11/19/07 at 05:26 PM I love where this takes me!!!! |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 11/25/07 at 03:37 PM Oh man, that last line is one for the books, sheer Morgangenius at its best! This is so evocative, Chaz... especially for an old man who especially appreciates that strong wind on his back, compensating for joints less-lubed with each passing year. |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 09/05/08 at 04:20 PM at first, i read that as 'and all lakes lose their nipples.' hehe great poem, as usual, chaz. |
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