Wednesday, August 8, 2018

The Transient Heart







I've observed that new poems ... or their beginnings ... are like rabbits venturing out to nibble the clover at dusk ... tentative at first ... then a little bolder ...

Old poems ... at least my old poems ... wander in and out like ... well, like old men trying to remember where they left their hats. I should know ... I'm one of them now.

Today's poem "wandered in" while I was driving.

We were on our way home ... probably after attending a poetry reading ... or sitting in with a group of poetry-loving friends ... two of my most frequent alibis for "a late night out."

I was thinking, just thinking, as I drove into ... and out of ... a rain shower ... I watched the windshield wipers knocking the raindrops aside ... and then quickly running out of anything to do.

For some reason ... I guess it was all that sudden activity ... then inactivity ... on the windshield ... "The Transient Heart" came to mind ...


The poem:


THE TRANSIENT HEART

Fog had invaded
our street overnight,
leaving my car
sitting like a large,
cold melon, dripping
with potential.


Extracting my keys
from the usual
pants-pocket tangle,
my gaze drifted
to a heart-shaped
tracing vanishing
amid a cascade
of trickles
on a rear window.

A secret admirer?
More likely just
a stranger, a pupil
dawdling toward
school, little
suspecting that
such a tiny doodle
could send so many
thoughts rippling
merrily across
my morning mind.
© 1998

(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: transient

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