Robert Preston Poems

How to explain, when you ask me, “Why poetry? ”
Might as well ask yourself such personal questions;
like, “Why’s man imbued with aimless idolatry?
How can I know the rhythm of unheard tones? ”
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Interconversion from potential form
-then to active- and back again, there is
no waste of love. Latent as pain on his
brow, then active as strokes against her arm.
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This is the dock by the timeless Saint Johns
where my grandfather would sit
where my uncle now sits
where I have just begun to sit
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