TSUNDOKU

for Ted Parkhurst

I pay my fee and enter our vast hall

where history’s great poets and authors

mingle. I recognize each one and call

out, “I wish I had time to stop, offer

each of you a day or two to listen

to your wisdom, admire your imagery.

Alas, I can only sigh and bow when

you consider me, offer poetry

and prose, even for those willing but not

able, like me.” Patient as trees, they sit

everywhere…tabletops, chairs, even floor,

yet mostly line the walls. Whisper with wit

and irony as I pass. Seem to expect

nothing more than a smile, and my respect.

Roger Armbrust

July 20, 2019

T’IS A PUZZLEMENT

I love solitude. I hate loneliness.

But sometimes I get mixed up. Know what I

mean? Don’t know what I feel. Can only guess

if I’m sad you’re away or glad your eyes,

your smile, your soft voice invite me in when

we meet. Feel both at the same time. Like young

Romeo, I guess…beneath the balcony

in both rapture and agony…too stunned

to sense reality. Feel both when you’re

not here. Maybe I’ll turn to Freud or Jung

for answers. Maybe just back to Shakespeare.

Maybe simply pray and listen. I’ve sung

about you when you’re away. Did you hear

me? Soft as an angel’s wing passing near?

Roger Armbrust

July 6, 2019