At 29 years…

This poem is here upon request of my friend Ruth. I hesitate as it’s a little obscure, and I feel a little ‘meh’ about it – like it needs slightly more work.  I was trying to play with the idea of opposites, but two sides of the same coin.  Anyway …

Welcome, please.
I can’t guarantee much here, but I will tell you
In Janus – style, you may not like me
All the while knowing
You will love me
though hate me
And never want to let go of me.

Through some gate of cold January,
You may find the summery July
Breathless in snow
Listless in the hot fly-buzzing days.
Begging in November – Slip-your-hand-in-my-coat’ kind of way
And you will (perhaps half desperately
Half gratefully)

I can’t even be sorry
For some how, though it is my burden,
It is also my delight
But the truth, yes
– it is my claim.
I have found
– though I have searched to the moon and back –
that I have no other.


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