My first book of poems
Published nearly ten years now
My second just out

Like leaves in autumn
Both glide unnoticed to ground
And are blown away

Words written in blood
Die like echoes of footsteps
In lonely alleys

Of all I publish
What matters least is prized most--
My "serious works"

None of them are weaved
From threads of a shredded soul
Like my simple poems

There is more of me
In any of my sonnets
Than all my textbooks

One simple haiku
Penned in seventeen heartbeats
Conveys more of me

Articles cited
By courts and other scholars
Feathers in my cap

But just adornments
That will never help me fly
Or help others soar

I'm grateful for them
Grateful to be heard in my
Chosen field of law

Grateful too am I
For the privilege to teach
That others may soar

Alas not on wings
Of poetry that uplifts
Our humanity

I so yearn to sing
Even as an unheard cry
In the wilderness