Peter A. Weinberg – Poetry

(After Richard Powers’ “The Time of Our Singing”)

Matt gambled, everyday—for him
   the throw of the dice
   made wondrous shapes in the air
   and the clop, clop, clopping of horses
   lightened his anguish

Here’s a love song:

   “I don’t care that you’re old
      and I don’t care that you’re crazy…”

Wavelengths vary, wherever you gaze,
   they do,  but only if you really see—
   those wondrous shapes are real

Sing again:

   “I’m older and crazier than you...”

Don’t you get it?
   Love’s just a word some of us use
      when we want something
   we throw it right out there, like dice

   “I’m older and crazier than you…”

What ill force makes us discard
   the very thing we most fear to lose?
Who taught us that?

   “I don’t care that you’re old
      and I don’t care that you’re crazy…”

Here’s what the optimist says:

“Whatever you love more than your life
   must finally belong to you
What you come to know better than your
   own way home, is yours”

-October 15, 2007-