a poetry e-zine










Poems By Joseph Farley

When life was golden
and I was young,
I valued myself
more than I was worth.
Now the sheen
has eroded
from all things,
and I see only
copper and tin
oxidized green blue
by the passing years.

The patina
does not give
a precious antique look.
No, it simply says
“We are not gold.
We never were.
Neither were you.
If the sun shined
more brightly upon us
it was because we were young
and beautiful
in our own way,
but that was all.”

I guess I should be content
and not mourn
as the junk dealer
comes slowly down the street
with his rusty truck
searching for scrap metal
and casts his eye on me.

Joseph Farley edited Axe Factory for 24 years. His books include Suckers, For the Birds, and Longing for the Mother Tongue (March Street Press).

Copyright 2011  Chantarelle's Notebook