2,668 Readings

Lake Merritt

To be one of the geese.
Unhindered and not-suffering by the Lake.

Souls go by on boat or foot.
Blue squares of water, blue days overtaking a year.

People clink glasses and talk of their invented selves.
Their selves living lives of ease and beauty and winning.

A real connection is often a bench full of quiet,
The goose eyeing the sandwich lazily

Waiting for you to toss a piece of it.
When will I learn to really listen?

To them, it’s no matter if you do.
It’s no matter if you don’t.
Posted 10/19/11
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