Today's poem is by Charles Wright
Well, I Still Have My Teeth, And That's Not Nothing
Autumn. We're still like foxfire,
Flitting and flailing, on and off,
pinpoints of light, and the night is deep.
At seventy, this life is rare, and has been since time began.
In these late years, I'm only drawn to the stillness.
White clouds drift on and drift on.
In pairs, the birds return to the privet hedge.
The darkness there is their living room.
Copyright © 2011 Charles Wright All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!
Web Weekly Features
About Verse Daily
Submit to Verse Daily
Copyright © 2002-2011 Verse Daily
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2002-2011 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved