Poem: Posted

Posted

So many of the places I wander into are posted.
No tresspassers. No sojourners or theives.
Often though, i go in anyway,
never breaking, simply looking for the leaky places
that have fallen open amidst the neglect
and entering.

So many of the people I encounter are closed. Posted.
No tresspassers. No sojourners or theives
Often though, i go in anyway,
never breaking, simply looking for the leaky places
that have fallen open amidst the neglect
and entering.

So many of my own doors are closed, Posted.
No trespassers. No sojourners or thieves
Often though, i open them anyway
never breaking, simply looking for the leaky places
that have fallen open amidst the neglect
and letting in the light and love.

About this poem

The picture was taken in Bellows Falls, VT. I never found my way into that one. The soft way doesn’t always work. But it works often enough.

Tom

2 comments

  1. Nice poem, Tom!

    Ironically, I find myself connecting most deeply with your writing when you write in the first person. I’m not sure why this is, but it might work for the book you are writing (?), as well…

    • It is always fascinating to me what people react to, or don’t. No formula, but endlessly interesting! As an aside, I have almost, almost, decided to write the mystery in the first person, a-la-Nero Wolfe. So far that is the feedback I have gotten on the first few chapters I have farmed out. You a mystery reader at all? I’d be glad to send you the two versions.

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