Our Book of Poems
Although my poems are a little like
Tibetan sand paintings
they exist and then, they're blown away
by wind (my poems are blown away by
other poems and dailiness and an almost full moon
and lamb chops and Ahava's Peppa Pig sheets
and ignoring Boris Johnson and tonight's debate
and the woman in a writing workshop last weekend who said
I Want to Be Ignited Again
and this morning's phone call from a friend whose mother
has dementia woke up at 2 am for a 9 am appointment
and went outside and though it was dark she kept going
my poems are blown away by Real and Unreal life
even so I want a new book of them, not in any
logical order, order is not my middle name, but in a book
with an evocative cover, page numbers and a place
to say Thank You for Reading and a then, a place
for you can send me yours.