Ode to Something


So much depends

on something or other;

But, Oh!

How memory falters.


A Barrow all busted,

the Wheel gone and rusted,

it now sits across

from an all-night diner.


And so this poem,

as it begins,

then it just ends –

like another,

with water that glazes.


Both poems, on things;

both quick as the blazes.


I just wish I could remember

the other.




©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2012

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