Poetry: Notes


Notes taken 53 years ago

From a lecture, no doubt

Where my head droops slightly

Under the weight of fatigue,

Letters trail off,

Shrinking under the strain

Of staying awake

But not alert,

Capturing recognizable words

Too slowly to hear what follows,

The thought, the idea

Of what I have to gain from being there,

Unable to remember what I did

Beforehand,

Or when I walked out with others,

Complete strangers, shadows actually.

Years have passed without clarity

On what that morning was all about,

But I have the notes.

Published by 67steffen

My labels: grandfather, father, veteran, writer, poet, photographer and dreamer in pursuit of the meaning of life. Getting close, although I'm running out of time--probably why I'm so close.

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