She Is The Many Things in Life

Kenneth has a taste for abstract/prose poetry as well as the comical side of life. 23-years of writing for a newspaper has served him well.

She is the electricity as much as she is the laughter

She gives, then takes back on a darker night.

She says little, but her eyes are volumes

She keeps guarded—never to hear them again.

She is a hymn sang softly on a summer Sunday morn

She walks carefully on each note as if she’s running.

She was the careful smile, the labored mile

She knows without asking—and sighs at the dawn.

She gave her eternities back to the tramps afoot

She rose violently across a mountain high.

She only sits, waits, and grieves for lover lone

She is the hateful shades of torrid betrayal.

She is the strength, the quietness of a misty eve

She is the clouds, the rose petals holding fast.

She is the jagged rock that death snatches her

She only smiles, putting *him to shameful sights.

She is the infant’s cry, the hobo’s empty stomach

She is the truth, a mild lie, a wandering kiss.

She is the fearful respected by stranger’s words

She is the silent tomb, the breath, the darkness.

Writer's summary – the one asterisk besides

him signifies death.

Kenneth