There is
No backward
Serendipity.
The way is forward.
Not in the dirty martini.
Nor the green day.
Joy cannot be planned.
Some hands open
Only once just
This way.
Notice.
2013
There is
No backward
Serendipity.
The way is forward.
Not in the dirty martini.
Nor the green day.
Joy cannot be planned.
Some hands open
Only once just
This way.
Notice.
2013
I like the contemplative nature o this poem, but I find it leaves me tasting the melancholy that knows that no matter how hard I dream what I’ve missed cannot be undone.
Hey Bill…
I suppose on one side there is a melancholy, and on the other, possibility. Letting the two coexist is quite a trick, isn’t it?
Will you remind me of how I can find your work on scribd?
love your reminder that, “Joy cannot be planned.”
It comes to you under its own speed; sometimes unbidden and against seemingly opposing odds.