On turning 18

now your mother
can’t tell you
what to do

well she can
but you can answer
adultly
pooh pooh

Sustainable Recycled Poem : Kokonga

By the margin, willow veil’d
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Yet see the red gold cirrus shine
Where was heard the mingled measure.

Yet strange my mind was tickled so
rhubarb burning by the sea
Of the girl gone dancing, chancing
And all the wonder that would be.

And in short measure life may perfect be
Mourns that day so soon has glided by
I heard a thousand blended notes
Dropped on dreaming and the upward sky.