R
And I must sit on the sidelines and watch
No longer able to do what I once could.
But he is my teacher,
a teacher like myself
a touching poet
who writes in pastels
who whispers his thought
and underestimates no one
where indirection
looks like no direction
the riches hidden.
I can read and think and wish
That I can do as much before I die.
poem by Fred Babbin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
