Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Second Thoughts In The Season Of Mists, Etc.
[to my poem with sincere apologies]
oh dear, don't you sometimes feel
when mailing a poem out to some magazine
or contest in the wilderness
all sight unseen
oh no, it forgot its galoshes and
it looks like rain.
or what if it gets on the wrong bus
after school or if it's too short
to reach the bell to be let off.
what if it never comes back?
never mind never mind
you want to say quite loudly
but the postman's already been.
goodbye, little poem.
fare thee well.
next time we'll just stay home
watch old cartoons
or movies on t.v.
or view the drizzle from the porch
of deep antiquities
or flit, like Keatses nightingale;
in the trees
mary angela douglas 29 october 2013