I look forward to any suggestions. And I thank you, Pat
I Don’t Buy Tickets, But
If I won a million dollars, I’d not object.
More likely, I’d jump up, cry out
and hug the ground like one gone mad.
Nothing like the soft chime of a bell.
When my bent mind straightened, we’d
take a breath and fix that dent in your old
gray truck and still pray daily to keep
the holy joy found in a sleeping pond.
If I won a million dollars,
some just man, perhaps God’s shiny agent,
could be hired to take hammer and nails
and lay new shingles on our leaky roof.
I’m sure I’d still wear a sensible dress,
bear casseroles and molded salads,
keep the same banging gate
and give gentleness to the discontented.
But, here, if I won a million dollars,
I just might go demented, ignore kin,
and ride the tides with those who’d
brave my broken Picasso dreams.
Probably why I don’t buy tickets. . . .
Pat Durmon, 2011
I Don’t Buy Tickets, But
If I won a million dollars, I’d not object.
More likely, I’d jump up, cry out
and hug the ground like one gone mad.
Nothing like the soft chime of a bell.
When my bent mind straightened, we’d
take a breath and fix that dent in your old
gray truck and still pray daily to keep
the holy joy found in a sleeping pond.
If I won a million dollars,
some just man, perhaps God’s shiny agent,
could be hired to take hammer and nails
and lay new shingles on our leaky roof.
I’m sure I’d still wear a sensible dress,
bear casseroles and molded salads,
keep the same banging gate
and give gentleness to the discontented.
But, here, if I won a million dollars,
I just might go demented, ignore kin,
and ride the tides with those who’d
brave my broken Picasso dreams.
Probably why I don’t buy tickets. . . .
Pat Durmon, 2011