Tag Archives: opoems

Aging Into The Work

by switching 
from late night 
frenzy jags 
to mornings
before the coffee 
has finished brewing,
your work wardrobe from
naked or T-shirts and briefs
in bed
to full dress
in whatever you decide 
to see as your office,
refusing to rely
on inspiration in bursts — begin
not carrying a notebook
everywhere and letting
the lines come and go within
as they see fit, trusting
the Work itself will put
those that would matter most
back in your hand when the time
demands it.  Continue like this
for as many years as you have left
to spend on it. It may be few,
it may be many, it may be
none at all and of course 
the Work itself
will continue without you
but when all is done,
take comfort in how
serious you were
about finding your own way
in your fading light.


You lost your wonder
thinking of the closed side show
within your body,

a silent fun house
of reluctant superheroes
you can’t call on to save you any more.

It’s hard living in that bed. It’s hard to see
the empty feeder outside the window,
the subsequent absence of birds.

Before this, you might have asked
whether someone was slacking and if
someone could get it handled. 

Now you don’t even ask where the birds are.
You stay silent listening for wings and capes flying
to your rescue, but nothing’s coming, so you just sit.