The Day`Dreamer

Mark Rothko

Mark Rothko

The old poet
shaves at a mirror
his face all in a lather
and in his hand a razor
The air scented of soap
and of olive orchards
where so long ago
he fell asleep

He was young
then Too young to
understand his dream
which was all of winter
His face without beard
without wrinkled eyes
the nail in his heart
yet to be bent

The hot steam
clouds the mirror
momentarily masks
his white face and skin
eyes yellowed by years
When it again clears
he is at a window
in day`dreams

“And yet we were so like one another
Even though every leaf of grass had its fate
Just as a sparrow on the roof, a field mouse,
And an infant that would be named John or Teresa
Was born for long happiness or shame and suffering
Once only, till the end of the world.” ~ Czeslaw Milosz


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 The Day`Dreamer

  1. the old man who is – was never dreamed by the young man who was


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