The Old Poet

by Peter Notehelfer

The old poet

works the puzzle

Words have shapes

edges that sometimes

stick together seamlessly

Or spark like flint on steel

At times he may compose

verses as in a hymnal

begging for melody

Or write lines of

shattered glass 


never thinking

of any audience’s

comfort or affliction

He writes for no other

than for himself & God

Confession & affirmation

as of sunflowers afield

long faded ere birds

come to tear seeds 

from dry crowns

in October


At day’s end

the used letters

get dumped back 

in the cardboard box

where they’re scrambled

The words made forgotten

as at the day’s beginning

a new puzzle is started

Old poems forgotten

Boys’ memories

lost to dreams

“When I have eliminated the ways that will not work, 

I will find the way that will work.”

~ Thomas Edison

5 Comments to “The Old Poet”

  1. Perfection in poetry, enjoyed…!

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