Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Pumphouse Poem

A door, veiled in light,
Unlikely refuge
Where reason wakes.
In there, one makes 
Mistakes but, oddly,
Learns from successes
Too --and prefers them.
Dim recesses accept
Things that fit 
And limit how lost
They get --and why
And where --which 
Is  why  I  often 
Find myself in there.

5 comments:

  1. Next time you are in the pump house please look for a pair of earrings I lost a couple of years ago. They are not expensive but there is a sentimental value. They have a blue stone that dangles from the posts.

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  2. I think a prayer house is not so different than this refuge of yours.

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  3. Geo., Happy Thanksgiving! I'm thankful for the way you share your poet's heart all year 'round.

    Be safe and God bless!

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  4. Everyone needs the refuge and sanity of a pumphouse - a place to gather the pieces and attempt to make them fit.
    Have a blessed Thanksgiving.

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  5. Another nice, thought-provoking poem, Geo. Thank you.
    Finding yourself in there is better than where I often find myself: staring at the door.
    Love and warmth to you.

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