Poem for Jeff Rudy
i don’t know where you are now
maybe your ponytail has gone gray
maybe your thick glasses
are smudged with the dust from old books
& you can no longer see your way
out of the worry that comes with age
maybe you no longer swim
in rivers
flooded with thoughtfulness
as far away as pittsburgh
or johnstown
where you once sang
about the mythology of weathered hands
where i once dreamt of you painting your nails
in a torn t-shirt reading while jim daniels
it must have been a dream
your shirts were always freshly pressed
& you only read larry levis & ed ochester
like it was a religion
& when you extended your hand
i took it
& it’s been over 30 years
with you now somewhere lost in time
& i’m still waiting for you
to let go.
John Dorsey is the former poet laureate of Belle, Missouri and the author of Pocatello Wildflower. He may be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com.