Don't get caught up in "I don't like poetry" or "I just don't get it." Just read the words, take them in, and enjoy.
JustI do quite like the idea of writing poetry on the sidewalk, though...
by Alan Shapiro
after the downpour, in the early evening,
late sunlight glinting off the raindrops sliding
down the broad backs of the redbud leaves
beside the porch, beyond the railing, each leaf
bending and springing back and bending again
beneath the dripping,
ecstatic, the souls grow mischievous, they break ranks,
swerve from the rigid V's of their migration,
their iron destinies, down to the leaves
they flutter in among, rising and settling,
bodiless, but pretending to have bodies,
their weightlessness more weightless for the ruse,
their freedom freer, their as-ifs nearly not,
until the night falls like an order and
they rise on one vast wing that darkens down
the endless flyways into other bodies.
Nothing will make you less afraid.
Now playing: Hot Water Music - The Ebb And Flow