Thursday, August 28, 2008


Love has a need to hang itself up
on an outside “thingamajig”
to show the world it always is there
and also is everywhere.

A coat hook of note, cold, solid, and staid,
a chair back upholstered in rich brocade,
the intent of a poem that’s not fallen flat,
or a totem pole in Seattle’s downtown?

The sun on high will frizzle and fry,
and life will snuff out its light
because safety in numbers a fallacy
created by lustful minds.

It has to be somewhere easily found
and accessed when the wind blows,
available too to say a “bless you”
when pepper gets up your nose.

Where, oh, where, but, hush, my friend,
love moves when you least expect
and finds its own “thingamajig”
when time is of the right mind!

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