Projects

(poems go here) Twenty Little Poetry Projects Morning lingers like a restless ghost, Opening every jar and setting it down on the ground. Drops of rain stick to each petal of the sweet smelling, soft cherry tree. The taste of honey tickles the fingers, Welcoming the Albany sun as Cat Stevens sets the mood. The drought spreads through the dry and empty room. Whispers of rock and roll emerge from behind the drapes, And the faces of teenagers going ape look through the window. Happy clothing, and happy kids. Teenage Waste Land echoes as they walk down the street. The shallow path of trust leads the way. Groups of kids as lonely as empty mirrors Link arms and soar into the dawn air. Young Emma looked beyond the window To see the mountains they would climb tomorrow. The unwritten books stacked high on the table, I must watch them read themselves. Even with the excitement, the loud music, the unwritten future, the ghost lingers.