THE AFTER-JOURNEY

This is written as an after-death poem,
although no one really knows what that’s like –
not even the “omniscient narrator”…

Long after the engine has cooled
the sense of motion stays with you.
Close your eyes and you still see
the road winding about,
the hills rolling on,
the trees blurring by.
You’re going nowhere
but going just the same.
There is no destination.
There is not Point B.
There is no finish line.  And
there is no stopping you now.

(Mike Cohen – Jan 2015) 

 

 

 

WORKING THINGS – WINDMILLS AND MONSTERS AND YOU AND ME

 

                       WORKING THINGS                  

When you get it working you are happy to make
something function, to take
the inanimate and have it dancing in your hand.

Life loves to bring things to life,
to have them join the ranks of those that go
stirring, lurching, churning, whirring, working. 

But all things working –
the gadgets, the gizmos, the contrivances,
the galaxy, the tide, your heart –
all working things
do eventually
stop.

                   (Mike Cohen – Dec  2005)

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