all I know is that I am old now.
But the body no longer drives me
to the extremes that were once Lust
in turbulent dreams --
stoking up
the blast furnace of my soul.
Some say that I have aged well,
all I know is that I am old now.
But the body no longer drives me
to the extremes that were once Lust
in turbulent dreams --
stoking up
the blast furnace of my soul.
Behind the all-but-forgotten face
I wore before
lives a worn out warrior.
The two of us share a scarred silver mirror.
We look not for poetry that contains truth
but for truth that contains poetry.
It is like someone reading an epitaph,
the way they roll it over
and around
on the tongue,
trying to manuever it
until it sounds
and feels
just right.
Jack Anderson's work has appeared in Christian Science Monitor, Poetry Society of America Bulletin, Greenfield Review, Confrontation, Interstate and others. His email address is: jackanderson99@hotmail.com.
