“No clue”: poem and thoughts

No Clue

If dis life meant for joy

so, at 66, I should know,

shouldn’t I?

Have somethin’ to show?

Figured out a few things,

but I’m slow,

(At least my wife says so.)

Sure, I’m slow

to let joy in

slow to bow,

to the secret in the center.

So show me how.

I’m with you.

I’m with the man with

the foolish grin,

speaking perfectly loud.

Dancing round the secret.

I’m the one

with the bug in my ear

who whispers,

move beyond fear.

And then there’s that secret smile.

Big Secret Smile.

That bug flyin off now.

I see him flying in your ear!

What’s he gunna tell you?

You let me know

while I’m still 66.

Because by 67

I plan to be a traveling puppeteer

and I don’t know

where I will be

in a year.

No clue.

A few words: Just got back from Monhegan. Now there is a magical place. What I will miss the most is the flowers. Well, the sea. The flowers and the sea. I told everyone I was building a little house in the woods there. There is some truth to that. It’s a dream house. It’s not real, but my soul says it will do for now. This poem is my attempt to stay loose, to keep the dreaming fresh, like those flowers and the sea.



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