A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
The first time I met you
You took my grandmother
Then my mother flew into your arms
Is Time up there with you?
Saturn, who keeps the years,
Do you two pal around together?
Sometimes I catch a glimpse of you
Handsome and well-groomed in your cutaway,
Chestnut goatee, silver headed cane and leather gloves.
Now you visit fast and furious.
So many I’ve lost; I see them
Down a long corridor the door open
To a bright snowy day.
Friend of the rich, you inspire nifty obituaries.
But poor people know you better
They walk toward you from trailer trucks in the desert.
They rise from the rubble to meet you
In whatever country we are helping now.
My contemporaries are joining you now
Our glad youth of singing and beer long past.
Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Romero