Fades to nothing, or eternity

My eyes dance about
Dance behind my eyelids
I have just awoke
From a late afternoon
Power nap
Fell asleep to my own voice

Reading the words
Of Mew & Eliot
& Owen & Thomas
Of farmers & soldiers
& intellectuals
And death

Poets
Why do they
Write their poetry
Surely not
That a century later

We would
Dissect their words
In such a shabby
Crabby way

Or for the sake

Of some
Leftist leaning
Lesbian

Learning
Without a tear
Or cheer
In sight or sound

Maybe though
That is it exactly why
Their eternity is
Tirelessly sought





A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon