I was just thinking about how much I appreciate poetry, and how much I appreciate some of my best friends, who are some of the most eloquent, graceful poets I have ever met. I wrote this poem as a way of expressing appreciation and camaraderie with them. I hope you enjoy!
Classic
Their hands grace the atmosphere—
Gliding through with the poise of madness
Like they’re signing a poem in the air we breathe—
Do they even need sound?
I’m moved by the possession of their bodies
As they move through a sea
Of their own expression.
Nothing strikes my fancy
More than an antique, a classic,
The aged soreness and complaint
Of young visionaries navigating a modern world
That depresses them with knowledge
As much as it does me.
In my fancy, multifaceted dreams,
Maybe someday,
Our classic message will become one,
Whether the weather
Will keep us together—
These theories are terrors to test.
But maybe something a little simpler
Can join with the complexity
Of the history of relics of the past
And foster something meaningful
That refuses to aptly shatter.
