Ken Wagner

To Be An Original

My wish?
To be an original.
Derivative, to be sure;
but a new combination,
an impossible individual.
Will you
be an original, too?

Sparrows splash
Warm
puddles

A gull’s call
A passing
cloud

A gull’s call
A passing
bus

I am once
Sprouted from this air,
that soil

New moon
Same wind through
the same trees

Geese rise
in morning light – I step
onto wet sand

Bring on
winter’s night – Only spare me
the wind

Rain melts
the snow to evening ice
We’ve slipped so far

We chatted at lunch
Slush on a cold
sunny street

Snow floats
The silent soft
white floor