A Poem by Joseph Roque
There is no mistake.
Somewhere, there is a veiled shady
glen, secluded but not quite hidden
from the perfect ocean view.
Secretly it summons me on sunny
afternoons, its shy zephyr kisses
faintly whistling, winking through
tattered, tree-leaf canopies.
Sitting there, tame and thankful,
favorite pen and pad in hand
I float, spectral and lightheaded,
out of body out of reach out of
touch with everyone, everything—
except this clear vision that I hold,
take with me, of this time, this place,
this perfectly peaceful poem, waiting
to be passed along, confident
that it is the closest I will ever be
to heaven and live to tell of it.
Joseph Roque is a poet who frequently writes about life, love, loneliness, growing older, alienation, and the joys of youth. His poems have appeared in Psychopoetica, Mad Swirl, Aphelion, Death Head Grin,The Poet’s Haven, RagMag, and Cerebration. His latest book is Ashes And Excuses.