The Poem Begins

M.E. Ologeanu

M.E. Ologeanu

The poem
always begins
when the eye catches
sight of the extraordinary
hiding in what is ordinary
the weathering cedar
on the fence
at home

The finch
on the railing
of the deck flirting
with two mates making
a little mating mischief
tumbling overboard
into the leafing

is in childhood
warmer days bringing
out even old men to watch
the rebirthing of the world
and to seek new words
to tell old tales

“Most of what happens happens beyond words.
The lexicon of lip and fingertip
defies translation into common speech.” ~ Dana Gioia


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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3 Responses to The Poem Begins

  1. such beautiful observations


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