Return to Sender

Has every human thought 

Been already written 

Drawn and painted

Made and discarded? 

Do we need another

meticulously worded

Juxtaposed metaphorically

Analogically written to death 

Poem?

Raising glasses to my face

Stifling laughs at my race

Do I dare write another comedy

What about a tragedy

Another one for the nursery

Only to usher into my hole

Of a mole gone awol 

If only the world could cradle

A tender heart fable

And mend the sensitive soul

Or else come find me

Dickinson deep in a cabin

North beyond any pole

Reliving the expeditions of men before 

Bold, brave, naive, mythic lore

Trek there among the polar bears

And cracked ice

Melt away the frost and peer into

A thick window porthole:

I’ll be warmly rearranging letters

Addressed to the non-dreamers

And building my peaceful poetry home