to write a poem is white
why not
the time
since love
is not available
consult your dictionary
your aging friend
against the tender night
and sweetness of wind
the ache of day
nothing to rescind--
if you take the hour
why bother
to lather on
new phrases and jot down
sentiments about life
which you are not
leading
someone’s coming
up to the porch
but bearing to the right
where other people live
-- hear their rhythms
note them
and play unto the night