The Old Poet

by Marc Mangel

 

The old poet died last night

with the stars shining and

full orange moon quickly rising

he let the wind take him

one last time

 

The old poet has gone

his verse is gone

The meoldy of word that he would cry

like white crests on blue water

they will be no more

the songs of his youth

and the wisdom of his age

the joy of his heart and

the fire of his spirit

all are gone

 

we are less

for we have lost a bit

of ourselves

our wisdom

does not change

almost granite

wisdom

and our joy can find other

songs

yet somehow

our sorrow increases

 

 

March 1973