Check out the work of this great poet
Old blind men, chasing rainbows,
tripping fairies and carnival clowns
Eyes once open will forever close
Old blind men, in their old hometowns
Old blind men, sit warming their bones,
on park benches and garden swings
Jesus sandals carry them home,
where Jimi plays and Janis sings
Old blind men, thumb from the past,
the future waves from empty cars
When life’s winners finish last,
old blind men become the stars
Pinhole cards move wooden pegs,
ponytailed voices, smoky and grey
Yellow fingers swirl ancient dregs,
old blind men, not fade away.
Bagpipe winds march,
across childhood waters
Waters once as sweet as wine,
from a debutante’s glass slipper
Now smelling of a whore’s weeds
When I was a boy,
swimming those sweet waters,
with my father
I feel his strong hands,
pulling me up on the rocks
Where we stand forever
Old blind men, chasing rainbows,
with cloudy eyes…
View original post 129 more words