Robert Leary (New London, Connecticut)
as if they were statues in a dream,
people left over from some other party;
not tonight's, some other one - you met them,
yes, partially you met and had meant to meet again.
He'd just published in POETRY and that we nibbled on
as if the idea had been a good once; frozen,
unfrozen for the evening and somehow lost its flavor.
You try again; how many countless times you try
to pick up where you left off -
a forgotten name of a forgotten dog you'd once adored
as a child of your own dreams of being a child
with a dog you once loved.
Comments about this poem (Often by Robert Leary )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings