Hey everyone, I'm not on here often, but if you read this and have something to say, please do.



I want to write poetry for old poets.

I want Fred Jones, age eighty,
to recline in his leather armchair,
tough weathered hands reaching
for “The Atlantic”
or maybe “The New Yorker”
and opening to the page where
a poem of mine managed to slip in

and bring him to the days
when poetry was an elusive fish
in the pond of his youth,
flashing beneath the surface,
flirting with the idea
of being caught.

Perhaps now,
as he’s finished the final line,
as the last careful metaphor
is reeled in and prized,
he’ll tuck his horn-rimmed specs
behind his over-large ears,
take his pad and pen

and push off the dock once again
gliding across water so clear
you could see straight to the bottom.
apparently one cannot name their poems "untitled" if one wants any feedback at all on this forum...