By Frederick G. Rodgers
The Portland Upside
March 2010
You have often said that the definition
of love is not to be found in any dictionary.
At last, I have found myself in total agreement
with you on that. It happens rarely, but you and
I recognize it instantly when it does.
Making the effort to define this in private and
in public word, it flies out of that cage of words
like a canary, dandelion-colored, seeing that
the door was again left open. You are correct:
love for another , if genuine, always defines--
-- or redefines itself like a clove-colored wren
abruptly chirping on a twig over to our right.
_____
Frederick has for a decade been retired from teaching English at all levels in the Portland area. His poetry has appeared in Portland Review, West Coast Review, Alchemy and Mentor.
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Articles from The Portland Upside at 3/04/2010 12:45:00 PM