A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
I spend most of the afternoon thinking about John Lennon.
How he would have been 79 years old next October.
How his wife has been a widow for longer than she was his lover.
I hear his songs in my head as I walk,
His voice locating the secret mouth of the river where all dreams begin.
O my love,
Let this world be as gentle as a middle-aged man playing the piano in his apartment.
And let that piano never fall out of tune.
Copyright 2018 Kareem Tayyar