Poetry- To the Reader of this Poem

To The Reader Of This Poem

I imagine you

perhaps reclined,

on a couch or a bed, a bench perhaps,

though best in a hammock,

where the poem is used like a good herb,

to season

the conversation of birds, or the first blooms of Spring.

I imagine you reclined, for poems are best received

as plants receive rain

or sunlight.

You cannot chase a poem, or hunt it

as you would a deer.

Some say you can chase love, or that you must,

but I think that’s just foolery.  With love

you cannot take

what must be given.  And so it is with a poem.

So I imagine you reclined.

And it would be nice

if you were interested in listening.  The kind

where you exit

the drumming of blood.  Such as a grandparent does,

who seems

to have nothing better, absolutely nothing better to do

than listen to the ramblings of a child in a swing.  Until

the creaking of a swing, or the chatter of a child

rises into the air undivorced.

Yes, you should be that way.  So that, listening,

you’ll reach the end of the poem, carried in its arms,

as if waking from a dream

you did not know you were having.  You’ll wonder

if you’ve  been dreaming at all, or just remembering, and you’ll say

“What was that poem all about?”

2.18.12