What I keep forgetting is I keep forgetting
Every time I stand up, it takes a day to sit down
The first blue bird is bathing in between robins
We're waiting for the tanagers to flit down
All year the word cancer keeps whispering
to some it is shouting, screams till she bit down
The old poets I love don't live in China, they long
ago left Japan, to visit me, stroll Forward Ave. a bit down
He said "I never heard of Nepal
now people go there like downtown"
My mother is persistent from beyond this life.
Just now I order a matchbook with her name written down.
"Can you imagine silver in her house?" my bro asked, meaning my abode.
"Yes," my stepdad said. "Hi Ho Silver." That old clown.
We are awaiting the next baby. It is a long road
Today we will visit a farm, a library, some new
folks who braved the elements to land in this town.
Last week we helped clean road for the pilgrims to walk down.
Easter Sunday, plum blossoms, the water in the ditch pours down
Life is indeed full, you old fool Joan Logghe.
There are three of us, just Google us, now sit town.