................................................................................................
The Poetry Of...
Deborah Rey................................................................
Loneliness on the Web
Being alone
is
just that.
You're alone
and that's the way
it is.
But, being alone
on the Web
is
twice as lonely,
'cause,
when you whisper,
'Help,'
nobody answers,
or gives a damn.
On the Web
you're supposed
to be
funny,
be part of,
and
willing to share.
On the Web
you're
on your own,
and that's the way
it is
on the Web.
Blue
The sky is blue,
so is the water of the pool.
It ripples like no Hockney
painting ever rippled,
but I feel blue.
The roses all are in full bloom,
in red, and pink, and yellow,
in mauve, and even one that
comes quite close to lavender,
but I feel blue.
The pine trees try to touch
the sky of blue and never
fail to drop their cones, which mostly
- up till now - have kindly missed our heads,
but I feel blue.
I think of trees - devoid of singing birds -
in another place, far, far, too far away.
Those trees are old and saw so much,
they saw it all, but never told me,
and I keep feeling blue.
Waiting
White blossom on the pear trees
has turned to petal snow and
buzzing music of the bees
has stopped, but will go on
in peach and apple trees.
Birds chase one another
in kamikaze love play,
and have signed the leases
of all the nesting blocks
and hidden nooks.
The Dingo-dog proudly marks
a brand-new tree
each day,
hoping still, to mark them all
before Summer.
The music of the Ocean
is calming down
to a pianissimo
of waves, and no longer
roars its tides.
I stand in awe and, while
looking up to the blue,
blue sky, I listen for the sound
of velvet hooves.
I'm waiting for a Unicorn
*First published in the September Issue of Flutter".
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