Lori Boulard Poems
Comments about Lori Boulard
007 Spring Cleaning
It is time. Time for changes.
Time to open windows
and let breezes of inspiration in,
sweep out the echo of lingering laughter,
and wipe away the stains of family, friends
and Shiraz tipped by the fire.
Put to sleep in their albums snapshots
of a time not wasted. Pack up the waste.
Set it out for prompt and permanent removal.
And while we’re at it,
let’s place the breakables
like India up on the shelf, careful
not to bend the corners.
Give the Middle East a good dusting
and hang Thailand out to dry.
Drip dry, please, too fragile for ...
What force compels my left hand to write?
My right hand wants to know
For it is seriously
Words stream in patterns
Like a distant rhythm
No sleep again tonight, my friend
For I hear the music
Time to dance