poetry

 

    poetry
    don't you dare
    leave me
    leaving me all
    to my grayself
    you're hiding
    in the repetitious dialog
    of my washer and dryer
    in the night rolling of the sea-like
    city noise hear the highways
    in the crowds
    of tiny summer bugs
    crawling out of the brown carpet
    and exploring my notebook in a hurry
    my life's an arrhythmic squeaky sequence
    of mishaps and minor misfortunes
    while you're longing for the   whales wailing
    for the song of love
    to which
    the whole blue ocean listens
    how dare I ask poetry
    to stay with me
    just because
    I am a poet


Wlodzimierz Holsztynski
1996-08-25