saturday, december 18

so in my own life i think i'm losing the war,
if not every battle
but that's a lousy metaphor, because life is not so much a
thing to be won or at least not that way

and anyway i just dropped off my friend who is on leave from iraq
with his parents, who were always good to me
and the december morning sun is shining on all this
dead grass & road surface & illuminating the baseball
field, the overpasses and the railroad
there are a million contrails in the blue, blue sky and
the radio is playing 'my velouria' just as loud as i can take it
and i am fucking ecstatic, it makes me want to offer up some
kind of prayer of not so much request or gratitude
or even contrition as just acknowledgment, recognition,

tags: topics/poem

p1k3 / 2004 / 12 / 18