Laura Hall funny-pictures.picphotos.net

Laura Hall  funny-pictures.picphotos.net

We are books unopened
lining the sagging shelves
of libraries long unvisited
Once every year the doctor
dusts our stiff fading spines
jotting our title onto forms
that get filed in a drawer
one day to get recycled
into tomorrow’s towels

Beneath the dust covers
lie the ordered chapters
neatly outlined in a Table
so unlike the lives we lived
Within chapters paragraphs
[piled scoops of ice cream
stuffed with nuts & chips]
melt into run-on sentences
of their half-eaten cones

Then words Ah The words
the particulars of our being
bearing our own unique scent
searching for mutual cohesion
disintegrate instead in the flow
of a stream without any banks
It is there somewhere where
all words are washed away
our conversation begins

“Walked up a trail
But the trail got rough
And it faded away—
Out in the open,
Everywhere to go”
~ Gary Snyder


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to Words`End

  1. “words washed away…” Happy Friday, Peter! A perfect ending, left me with a very nice big smile :)


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