Here is a poem from one of my favourite framers. Aside from being talented, and mindful, he was and thus is much help to me.
Never rooted in Tibet, has not watched a whale breach a November Pacific dusk, or guzzled bitter beer near Vesuvius. Nor has it absorbed the warmth of a loved one’s hip on a frozen morning long after the embers’ glow has greyed and the windows blossomed white. It cannot know the beauty of disparate instruments playing in joyous harmony. It will whisper no incantations, does not smile, won’t ever feel the anticipation of a first kiss after a complicated courtship. The bouquets of Bordeaux elude it, as do tears or the benefits of laughter. Why, then, do I envy it so?
“This Oak” was published in Slippery Elm (print only) published by Findlay University in Findlay, Ohio, in spring 2019. As luck would have it, I, along with four others, am reading at Findlay University tonight, Tuesday, October 15. Who would have thought this backyard Texas poet would be reading in Ohio?