The lick of fire
Has fled from the coming ice
Carried in the winds.
Tag Archives: Poem
A Labor Day Toast
To those who push papers,
And those who click mice.
To those who swing hammers
And those who roll dice.
To thinkers, to doers –
To teachers and crooners.
To cashiers, to stockers –
To clerks and dog-walkers:
From the lowest to highest
From the many to few,
Whatever your job,
A toast to you!
All you do, all you say,
All you write, plan, or make –
You deserve a day off!
Have a nice, happy break!
I Would Count the Hours
I would count the hours,
The minutes,
Until that blessed day,
But I have not
The slightest clue,
When this cold will go away.
A Seat at the Bar
A moment of peace,
Sweetened by cold drinks
And decadent dishes –
A solitary bubble
In the bustling chaos
And excited crowds –
A gilded throne,
Metaphorically speaking:
The royal treatment
Without the toll.
Exhaustion Drags Downward
Exhaustion drags downward
Like a soaked cloak –
No, a sturdy shield:
Heavy enough to dispel attacks,
Simultaneously trapping
The inexperienced.