With Head Down...
Virginia Salter

I sit and languish
wanting to be read
and someone’s died

I sit and hunger
wanting to be fed
and someone’s died

I watch my words
fall down one tear at a time
and someone’s died

I watch the tears of others
not knowing why they’ve come
and then,

I open my eyes wide enough to see
the world goes on and on
afar from me

the tears have come to those who can see
and hear
and now I’ve learned

the tears they shed are for a loss
of one of their own
that’s had to hang up his pen and poem

not for awhile but for eternity
at least from this side of life
and vanity

we’ve all met a loss more profound than we’d dream
for the cup has been taken from our lives with the cream
and all we have is the lace within his words
we have read and from his heart so truly heard

in the flesh, most, if not all, were not blessed
to meet our Wilfred Yeats, one of our best
yet we stand in mourning for our friend
not believing quite fully it is his end

simple words lined with humor
were quite characteristic of his life
his muse, I’m sure lives on in the ink of the dawn
and the little touches he has managed to convey
will weave themselves into each of our days

it’s so easy to stand alone and look inside
forgetting to see what’s around and true abide
may I be forgiven for my introspective sin
as I take time to see where Wilfred’s been.

© July 8, 2001