Marvin Bell Poems
|1.||The Book Of The Dead Man (Food)||5/14/2015|
|4.||Song Of Social Despair||2/27/2015|
|5.||Veterans of the Seventies||8/29/2015|
|7.||He Said To||1/20/2003|
|10.||The Self And The Mulberry||1/20/2003|
|11.||I, Or Someone Like Me||1/20/2003|
You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
And a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
And sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
"Things that are lost are all equal."
But it isn't true. If I lost you,
The air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn't be yours. If I lost you,
I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.
Submitted by Larry Bole