Wednesday, September 30, 2015

AESRED POEMS



FOR SIEGMAR

His back straight
The young soldier
Hears every word
Of the pretty actress.

OCTOBER 1

Tomorrow, my father will be born
As he is each year on that day
(Somewhere, it is always 1926.)
Max, his father, will greet him
"Hokay-hey," he'll say (my dad
Will always remember hokay-hey --
The borderland where joy
Trysts with resignation )
"That makes nine of you;
We'll borrow a bat, some mitts,
And chellenge the Dodgers."

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