He
He calls himself Ruebén
speaks of white linen
swans.
Unfurling the flag
of the poetry.
He offers praise
for the tree that stands
in perfect stillness.
Offers hope to things
with wings.
He learns the name
of every star from
the fairy tales
emblazoned on
spires of God.
13 thoughts on "He"
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nice work. sounds like a busy guy..
Beautiful! Love this!
A beautiful one to read aloud, as are most of yours.
The world needs more Rueben’s!
You are unfurling the flag of poetry, buddy.
I know this isn’t a prayer but I said amen at the end.
Each section is awesome on its own. Together it’s a magnificent quilt I want to wrap myself in.
this feels so hopeful and glad, thank you!
Beautiful! Rueben sounds like a beautiful soul.
So much said in so few words.
This makes me. Lose my eyes to imagine scenes. Very nice and evocative.
Especially love offering hope to “things with wings.”
What a wonderful poem. Reuben sounds like a gem.