Dear people, I hereby give
you permission. Be joy.
Swing on swings. Dance a tango.
Play your trumpet through the streets,
along the river. Take off your shoes and wade,
feel the mud between your toes. Eat
butter or whipped cream on everything.
I feel I must remind you, life is small, over soon.
Insist on friends.
You make me like poetry again.
ReplyDeleteThis is Kris. The post is identifying me as "Pure Id" - weird. I followed the link to make a comment and it linked in with a blog I started about Duncan and almost never write in - but think about every single day (Can you guess to whom the "Id" refers?)
ReplyDeleteIs this fate, prodding me to write? Using you as a muse?
Happy Poetry month, Dawn! Love the poem. Thanks.