By Shirley Segev
© Shirley Segev
Permission is given hereby to all who want to use these poems personally for their enjoyment and/or share them freely with others: verbally, in writing, online, or otherwise, by copying them without making any changes, and as long as they do not receive any payment in return.
Contact: shirley.segev@sympatico.ca
Last month, in early
March,
these tender shoots in
frozen ground
said here, now here's a
miracle
for you,
and I, delirious and
drunk
with spring's first breaths,
blinded by barely
touching rays
of sun,
said yes to endless
happiness.
I rush by now without a
thought
of nature's virgin gift, still
here
to ponder and inhale,
a faded memory of joy
comes back
the feel of loss so pale,
already I forgot.
What if I got the queen's
jewels
next early March
I guess there's nothing to
regret,
I'd probably forget.
I hesitate to tally
my wins and losses
for fear I might
screw up the arithmetic
— that 80 average |
was a fluke win —
Still, you asked,
"are you winning or
losing? "
I try for an algebraic equation,
with pluses and minuses.
I will probably screw up
this one too.
How can I tell you If I'm
winning
or losing — it's so confusing,
just turn a line into a cross,
and what is it now,
a win or a loss?
When I said
my expectations are limitless,
meaning the world out there,
randomness, technology, luck,
serendipity,
delicious anticipation,
hope and all,
I could prove it was true,
I have all the examples
(I got a call from a headhunter
-I knew years ago),
I was on firm ground.
What a limited view,
look inside you, the glimpse
said,
that's where the vastness lies,
I breathe in the sky and the sun,
somehow it's not as much fun.