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Stan VanSandt
Poems
Sep 2016
Puzzle
I died without my quota made,
The puzzle still unsolved.
I saw a pattern, pieces fit,
But never found an edge.
So death provided boundaries -
Beyond it was a void -
Except for what Iād left undone,
Those jigsaw asteroids.
And so I hope that there will be
A consciousness out there
To pick up pieces that I missed
And make my life all square.
In the style of . . . oh, you know who.
Written by
Stan VanSandt
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227
Doug Potter
and
its gonna make sense
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