favorite of the reclaimed poems

Of all the old poems I found from 2003 when I first went back to working in New York, this is my favorite. Most of them seem to have been written while I was working at McCann Erickson on the L'Oreal account. Wierd thing about advertising. It's fast paced and frenetic, but there's always time to dream.



For what purpose was i born.

I am here
to listen
to the language of melting of snow
roof top rivers run
like wild
drips
turn quickly
into streams
of consciousness
sun on skin
moon on the last
of the shrinking glaciers’
retreat across the lawn
matted with autumn leaves
storm strewn branches
and somewhere
just beneath surface
snow drops drink

March 17, 2003