M

Had myself a silent milestone yesterday.  I wrote my 1000th poem.

I've been writing poetry since my college days, back in 1975; keeping them in hand-written composition books and self-publishing them in legible books.

I'm proud to have kept my head in the game for so many years.

I’m thinking...
mother with child
sharing a heartbeat

(brightening
her world
which is otherwise dead)

or perhaps
it’s just Pablo
longing like always

for a women
he glimpsed
and remade in head.

Whatever the case
he asks me
to finish

the world
he created
in which this exists.

Not bad for
some yellow, some grays,
and a paintbrush

from the mind
of a man
my lifetime has missed.