Like I suppose Columbus held
while he sailed the ocean blue,
I try to rediscover you with
a brass compass.
Like I’ve seen Gandhi wear,
while nonviolently battling the Brits,
I battle old photos through clear
round gold frames.
Like I learned da Vinci designed,
in between the helicopter and scuba gear,
on my wall waiting for you to return
is a painfully accurate clock.
Like we were taught Hancock wielded
to sweep his name on the Declaration,
on my desk is a pen that I’ve used
to denounce my independence.
Like I know Franklin used
when he discovered electricity,
I have a key and a string and a kite
that I send up daily like a beacon
to let you know that
I’m still here.
Please check out my book of fiction and poetry, “Songs you can’t dance to”: http://www.amazon.com/Songs-You-Cant-Dance-ebook/dp/B00ATQW5XK
copyright 2012 Steven Harz
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