Friday, May 8, 2020

Ah, Poem






Never know where you will take me
Never know where you will lead
Or what you will wake within me
Where syllables intercede

Never know what you will whisper
What reason your rites unfold
Whether you are miss or mister
Wild or bridled, young or old

Never know if you bring laughter
Or a melancholy dread
Sometimes before, sometimes after
Torn between my heart and head

Never know how you will greet me
Fist-a-cuff or tender kiss
when or where you wait to meet me
That’s the way a poem is

Will you be a landscape painter
Or a flower or a sigh/sky
Never know how you will answer
Is it hello or good-bye

© Janet Martin

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