I Was Scared

Two poems on the topic I Was Scared


The Storm

The storm bit hard, but

I fear far more the cut of

normalady soon to come.



Old Father Man

I drink this day without thee,

Old Father Man, old man, I

drink this day, this day, for

the first time, time since nineteen

forty one, my first day, I

swallow this day, down it goes,

this day, first long midnight

hour of day, like wine so sweet

it must be sour, this day I drain.

And though I, first born, leave

a cup for thee this day, no prophet stirs

the crusty earth as my glass

eyes crack.