Pin It
Favorite

Poem: This Old Man 

This Old Man

No one wanted his poetry
His only appearance more or less
Permanently in print
Was the sign scrawled outside his door
That began
This government
Those thieving bastards
The poems themselves
After endless rejection
He tore into pieces
And flung into the wind
Where they would from time to time
Reappear
Blown against wet windows
Or stuck to a shoe
And when held to the light
Read in fading phrases
Things like
Time passeth and
I lost her and
He loved

Pin It
Favorite

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event
Outdoor Shorts @ GARNER Arts Center

Outdoor Shorts

Fri., June 23, 7:30-10:30 p.m. and Sat., June 24, 7:30-10:30 p.m. — Audiences will enjoy a series of curated short films by New York...

Bob Dylan and His Band

Fri., June 23, 8 p.m. and Sat., June 24, 8 p.m.

View all of today's events

Latest in Poetry

More by Clifford Henderson

Hudson Valley Tweets