Monday, August 24, 2015

Ode to Bob

I thought of Robert Frost today as I
went to my pile and picked its
bits. The pile that sits,
not left like his,
but constantly
renewed.

In this of course it plays its part
to warm me twice
- no even thrice:
      the picking up
      the burning up
      the thankful, glowing heart.

I would have liked to meet you, Bob,
I think we might have shared
A love of things that others miss.
You noticed and you wondered deep,
But most of all you cared.