In early January
My shadow goes in front of me.
The sun shines
But my hands are cold.
One day I know
My shadow will no longer go.
Though perhaps in rhyme
I will leave something behind
And people may see
Something of me.
For poets make shadows
Through their poetry
She left her hair extension.
I kept it for her
Knowing she would return.
There was no pretension
That she was my lover.
Others have left things behind.
A girl left an earring.
I have always returned
But have never learned.
A sad magpie
Am I.
A young lady who is extremely nice
Is known for her love of vice.
She is fond of cake
And loves a good steak.
And now lets discuss that girl’s vice …
I know a young lady named Moriah
Who says, “our lives are a satire!”
I say to her, “Fay,
We are in a play!”
And she says, “my name is Moriah!”
I am marrying a young lady named Chancer
Who has a job as an erotic dancer.
She thinks I have money
And calls me her honey –
But, dear reader, I am also a chancer …
A young man sitting at his desk
Said, “your poems are so very Kafkaesque!”
When I said, “how so?”
He said, “I don’t know!
But The Trial will come nonetheless!”
I know a young man named Matt
Who wears a very fine hat.
He sits on the ground
And says nothing profound.
But he wears a very fine hat!
I go out in the rain
Again and Again
My mind on poetry.
The ground smells fresh
Of life and death
And I return again and again
To the rain
Thinking on poetry
And my mortality
A very happy new year to all of my readers. I hope that 2026 is a good year for you.
Very best wishes. Kevin
Should I shed a tear
For the dying year?
I survived a brain abscess
And lived to see the tree undress
In autumn.
My hair has longed turned white.
I can not fight
The passage of time.
Yet take delight
In this brief rhyme
Of life.
All things pass.
Yet my glass
Is at least half full.
The weather is dull
But I still hear the steady tick tock
Of the clock
On the wall
And relish these fallen leaves
For I, as they
Must pass away.
K Morris - Poet 