Short Poems

“Pain through pain;

Although the window’s stained, it’s clear as days

- and so’s this haze;

Stupefied daze;

Regroup and try

- lay down my head,

my hands on my face;

Louvers let in the rain.”

- Old Dying Joe

“Burdens unnerving? No - they’re undeserving;

Earthn the yearning to turn leaflets working;

Pardon: ‘Depart parts that have hardened’;

I start to tend to my garden;

Flourishing - nourishing:

The cure is unlearning.”

- Old Dying Joe

“The capacity for growth is a quality we all share;

A great gardener tends to each plant with intention and care;

I’ll mention, protection of mending and lending tendencies collectively bear a sense of connection

- A breathe of fresh air.”

- Old Dying Joe