Words, Words, Words

The words they come and go
like spokes on a bicycle wheel.
Spinning and returning to
the beginning.

Beginnings and endings
blend together, until there are just
words
going in circles.

We dropped
philosophy and metaphysics,
spirituality and emotional subjectivity.
We dropped dogs versus cats.

We dropped
intimate wanderings, long vacations,
justification and arrogance.
We dropped pride.

Polonius: “What do you read, my lord?”
Hamlet: “Words, words, words.”
—Hamlet

[RK, 2/28/21]

Bicycle, Bagel, Baby Dolphin, Baby Osprey, Backed-Up Traffic, Boisterous Heat, Blank Hours
 
Remembering the things
beginning with a “B”
as I review
Thursdays and Saturdays.
 
[RK, 2/28/21]

Snow Moon

The particulars slip off
the tip of the pencil.
I’ll just sit here beneath the light.

Light’s intimacy brings back
tight memories when each full moon
was invested with meaning.

Awaiting revelations
I end the brief interlude
brushing away mosquitoes.

[RK, 2/28/21]