Random Poems
Taking the bait
for Marc Sheehan
Sure and we have missed our calling,
all those years in academe,
the jobs for universities, non-profits, even industry,
and the good ones – house painting,
and Christmas tree sales,
none of these were where we belonged.It seems so clear in hindsight,
a shack by the river, or lake in the U P
a big tub for minnows, and
a nice collection of worms,
|night crawlers, red worms, the usual suspects.
A few Zebco reels and poles on the wall,
some bobbers, line, hooks, nets,
jitterbugs, spinners and spoons,
canvas creels and rubber waders.
The good life could have been ours.
A Prayer for Lucifer
for Ruth Zardo
If light cannot be without
the darkness that defines it,
where in the dark do you look
to find a seed of the light?
Could a shard of hope remain
in a banished brittle soul,
what shaft of mercy might yet
save the Son of the Morning?