Your “But..and what if…?” got me.
At dinner, at the narrow table
of this narrow present.
After some silent spell
in the waves of the conversation.
I know your kind of question well,
for ages I have myself
refused to give up doubts.
I have asked and asked
despite life's
shrugging shoulders.
I think I know a lot about asking,
I have digressed by it on meadows and rivers,
I have wavered, meandered, lingered,
with questions I have silvered
currents of grass.
And now look, my doubts,
kites in the air.
Thermals are friendly with Ifs and Buts
up there.
2 comments:
I was going to highlight the line of life's shrugging shoulders, but then you finished with this:-
And now look, my doubts,
kites in the air.
Thermals are friendly with Ifs and Buts
up there.
So good! But in retrospect the whole poem is as good. Not a false note anywhere, a real triumph.
A triumph indeed.
Anna :o]
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