My Gift to You

Charles Demuth

Charles Demuth

My gift to you
is this bundle of words
stitched together with thread
so fine you’ll not see it
Some words
will simply float on air
feathers off some snow`goose
flying south for winter
Other words
will come with velocity
Bullets from my gun barrel
It’s best to duck these
Their violence
is not intended for you
but for the shadows of men
invisible by day`light
My gift to you
is this bundle of words
soft silty loam into which to
bury your own winter

“I have spread my dreams under your feet
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” ~ W.B. Yeats


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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