Something Old, Something New

“The Poet”

I take what never can be taken,
Touch what cannot be;
I wake what never could awaken,
But for me.

I go where only winds are going,
Kiss what fades away;
I know a thing too strange for knowing,
I, the clay.

-Haniel Long, 1888-1956

“Pink Blooms”

Tears on this palely lit path
Tic tac toe
We’re all dying
Pink blooms to touch with my fingertips
Outlines drawn and shadows follow
Childhoods fill this pavement
Dreams have been left here
To harvest by the old
To relive by the semi-used
To mock by the unwrinkled
Where do I fit in on this graph
Does this dot lie unsettled?
Ah, to be new and unbidden
Such sweet triumphs
To be left behind by those who do not know
yet
what weight origin has

-photo & poem by Kate Sherbo, 2014