History

My history is irrelevant. Or
say that strong winds blow
away the details we all
thrive on.  The meals we
shared over coffee are past
and strong flavors remind
me of the debates over
formica and Sinatra on
the juke box.

If I am, today, a thinking
person say that my ideas,
which I cling to so strongly,
are the stitches of lessons
learned and the rewards of
companionship forged in
the youth of the 60s.

The bombs of politics dropped
on our coffee house opinions
like cold rain on the
northern lobes of ideas.

Say then that I am without
formally able to reply to
your erudition.  I am not
pretty or laden with the
vocabulary needed to
conduct the symphony.

Remain forever young then
and if you can't read the
poetry of the past.
Travel the miles.

Sound your trumpets

Read Herodotus and
think of me once
in a while


Caroline Shank