the best years


The Best Years

are no
best years.


There are
clusters of
years each
cluster with
its shining
moments, knee-
deep in
the bone
yard of
the shining
moments of
the clusters
that came
before it.


That’s why
children are
so radiant.
The ball
started to
roll yet.

Leave a Comment

Filed under poems & short jabs

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.