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my poems for Shel Silverstein….

Photos of Barbie Angell by Rodney Smith - Tempus Fugit Design © 2013
My Hero

The sidewalk’s slowly cracking now.

The attic light has dimmed.

The giving tree gave

all the poems she saved.

The bearded man’s moaning a hymn.

The sun is going down again,

and the rain is coming in.

And we search the ground

for the perfect sound

and we wonder where we’ve been.

What common thought has captured us?

Who pulls the fraying thread?

And what can we say

of ourselves today,

when our bodies are finally dead?

And all of our eyelids are leaking.

And our ears softly beg for a rhyme.

‘Cause all that we need

is a moment to grieve,

in an endless allotment of time.

Where is our singing savior now?

Who took him away from our world?

His poems now rest

in his last precious breath,

and in tears of the boys and the girls.

I’ve lived inside his shadow now,

for this lifetime that I’ve had.

And his words and art,

from my very start,

have distinguished the good from the bad.

I pray for a new man to follow,

to lead me the way of my dreams.

A genius of meter.

A brilliant new leader.

As my hopes start to break at the seams.

‘Cause Shel paved the sidewalk for writers,

and the gifts that he gave are unchanged.

And I can’t let it go,

since nobody knows,

how to mop up the tears in my brain.


Ode to Shel Silverstein

Who are you when you’re with me?

Are you the you you’d like to be?

I’d like to be with you, you see

and be the me I’d like to be.

And if we two, that’s me and you,

were the “we” we wanted to,

would we be happy instead of blue,

if I were me and you were you?

But if I were you and you were me

oh what chaos that would be.

So you be you and I’ll be me

and all will wish

that they were we.


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