I met a man
In a coffee house last night.
The room was full, so nervously I
Asked with shaky voice to stay a while in his company.
I must admit,
Had the weather been kinder
I would just as soon have passed him by,
But sharing that table I learning of things, things of life.
A master poet
He said he was,
Though by his clothes, I can't deny,
He looked unsavory. Weak and frail, windswept if you will.
I don't know
What he meant when he spoke
But trusting that he would not lie
I listened, feeling his words grip my throat. Then I knew
Something new
He was, and now I too.
With sharpened wit I loosed my cry
Of the power of words and the value of life.
Friday, January 26, 2007
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Although I've never said it, this really is one of my favorite poems of yours.
ReplyDeleteIt just seems like something you'd stumble upon on a lit book in high school... the kind the teacher may read but you won't analyze... just read and then move on to the next piece in the lesson plan.
But for some reason, that one poem keeps popping back into your head. And you wonder what it really means, to you, to the poet, to the world.