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
