I hold a voice, sometimes
feel it slip between my fingers.
Grasp a little tighter. Not so tight
as to startle it or send it fleeting.
Just enough to let it know
I remember, understand
its time is not limited to my past,
its confusion a sign I have more to learn.
Its wonder reminding me to be open
to possibilities, that even decay
and loss can lead to growth.
I hold that voice to my ear,
beginnings never really end.
Ken Gierke started writing poetry in his forties, but found new focus when he retired. It also gave him new perspectives, which come out in his poetry, primarily in free verse and haiku.He has been published at The Ekphrastic Review, Vita Brevis, Tuck Magazine, and Eunoia Review. His website: https://rivrvlogr.wordpress.com/
The Ekphrastic Review
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