After the Fall

Iím in the gutter,
eager for a child
to take me home.

Iíve seen it happen
to my relatives
and friends,

Some asleep
with long stems
gracefully exposed,

While others
patiently await
a democratic wind.

But if a child
doesnít come,
what then?

Will an old man
rake me to his
garden by the road,

Or will I blow
away and not
come back again?

October 3, 2005

Previous Entry     Next Entry     Return to Songs and Letters     About the Author

Main Page
Authorís Note
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
News and Reviews
Highly Recommended
Letís Eat
Favorite Books & Authors
Useless Information
E-mail & Parting Thoughts

Flippantly Answered Questions

Top of Page