~~~
a flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one
my poor soul,
my rag tag heart,
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy get, easy spent
if only,
how I wish,
could harvest my best,
and with golden cutlery,
excise
the single flawless poem
that I know is in my possess
lay down this hand, so weary,
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that when my casket lowered,
two hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best,
to ease the rest,
a papered poem record to join his whited ash,
his flawless poem,
his very best
*now eternal,
at long last
first published here
on
Jan 13, 2014