A conversation in poetry................

 

As long as the woodpecker
taps on my roof I'll be fine,
a little life left in the shell.

The blind man navigates

by the stars behind the daylight.

Just before I fly out of myself

I'll say a puzzled goodbye.

Our bodies are women who were never

meant to be faithful to us.

I was born a baby.

What has been

added?

Treasure what you find

already in your pocket, friend.

Today a pink rose in a vase

on the table.

Tomorrow, petals.

-Ted Kooser and Jim Harrison, Braided Creek