Reading another blog: A Damn Fine Cup of Coffee, and putting together a book of poems, I ran across this one, about five years old, and thought I would share it here...
I who was once the wanderer
I who
was once the wanderer
am
now the still point in a turning world
Who was
once the heart of chaos
saying
“let God sort it out”
now
stand with a camera on the front porch
while
the car pulls out of the driveway
two
girls waving saying “I’ll call
when
I get there” and “Bye!”
I who
was once the wanderer, who
wrote
wistfully “All who wander are not lost”
am
now standing in the sun setting
am
now the still point in a turning world.
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