Instead of Words
and river mud, I leave you waving
on the old front porch we still don’t have.
I am so sorry, my love. Instead of words,
I should have used a hammer and a saw.
What good are these imaginary creaking boards?
Or my vow to paint the railing when the weather warms?
March 27, 2007
Previous Entry Next Entry Return to Songs and Letters About the Author
Many of the poems on this site are available in print editions.
Main Page
Author’s Note
Background
Notebook
A Listening Thing
Among the Living
No Time to Cut My Hair
One Hand Clapping
Songs and Letters
Collected Poems
Early Short Stories
Armenian Translations
Cosmopsis Print Editions
Interviews
News and Reviews
Highly Recommended
Let’s Eat
Favorite Books & Authors
Useless Information
Conversation
E-mail & Parting Thoughts
Flippantly Answered Questions