PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

2002 

for Garred Johnson, 2002 

a slight untruth. My dad was a Bacardi or Dark Rum drinker.
It's me that likes Vodka.

Please do not critique this...I don't care how stupid it may sound to anybody else, but I wrote this with so much feeling that it's almost painful.  Almost every word I used in here is a symbol of sorts, and it may not make sense to some...but it has meaning to me, and I think that is all that matters in poetry...

The attic had been cleaned.  Within the mounds of forgotten memories, a kite was found. A park, a warm summers day, and a grandson, awaits a grandmother, at its finding. Which of the two will get the most enjoyment of the day?  The Child - that experiences only the moment? Or the grandmother, who realizes the moment he is now experiencing, will one day become the memory of his manhood.

How long since you have flown a kite? ~Lesa~