Good Christ, he said to the mirror
you certainly look your age
hair retreating to the rear
bleary eyes
gray stubble
another night spent carousing
takes a toll all right
you could have spent the hours
instead
on the unfinished manuscript
lying bereft on the desk
'Tell us what you thought
when you embarked on this voyage,
leaving your native land
for the shores of Chicago?
No answer? - you faltered
for fear of failure? ....'
He turned from his reflection
to light a single candle
in the dark
Wonderful poem, its flows well and holds together with good imagery. I have found you are very good with imagery and flow. I have enjoyed reading your works. thanks for sharing Michael
What a picture in the last two lines, , turning and lighting a single candle..still he has the courage to celebrate, , , a good write,
its really a sad poem but a very nice one it surely entered my heart
the reflection in the mirror is nothing like the light of the candle - you light your way - to Chicago, to the manuscript awaiting finishing, to carousing, making finishing manuscript all the more urgent (and stringent) fantastic thoughts on the reality of the human person - reflection or light itlsef - you are the lght, michael, you're light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That's so sad, Michael. Your poem evokes many unanswered questions and sounds like the start of a novel to me. Best Wishes, Marilyn