Monday, June 22, 2015

love poems


A man knows himself unworthy, her love unmerited,
a mystery like a healing after a wing's light touch.
And he no longer tries to hide his failings,
humbled and as helpless for wounds
as if he were already old and almost blind
and forgets his way in a well known city.
Shaking, he takes out a worn, often folded paper,
and asks strangers to read a name, an address.


  1. ... man is man. as he grows up to be a man ... i feel no mercy for a man that looks bewildered ... i have much compassion for the bewildered look of a new born baby though ...

    1. ^.^ men who don't look bewildered are wearing masks ...


  2. What a tender poem. You made me laugh about bewilderment. So true for us all. xo

  3. i think this is one of the best poems you have written recently. it reaches the heights of that sacred, Orphic speech, the one re-enacting genesis...