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Laura, Toucan Editrice

Friday, November 2, 2012

Poem of the Week: Wagon Ho!, Rick Hartwell

I find that my dawns steadily
encroach on my nights,
from six to five to four to three.
Soon now I am certain that
I will re-meet two a.m. and
greet it as the start of day, as
once I bid it the end of night.
Is it advancing age, or is there
something of the clubs and
bars I miss and which I am to
recapture – my youth ill spent
in which I must reinvest – time?

Empty driveways,
un-mowed lawns,
abandoned suburbia
or a different cause;
back to the nightclubs,
back to the bars,
stray from the right,
re-embrace the night.

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