A REFUGE FOR POETS WHO WRITE IN THE LYRIC TRADITION,
WITH RHYME AND METER, WITH OR WITHOUT MUSIC
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MY COTTAGE HAS TWO PORCHES
My cottage has two porches
That overlook the bay.
I like to watch the water
On a partly cloudy day.
In one direction it is blue,
In others, white or gray.
Depending on our point of view,
We see things different ways.
To some, a lifetime is too short;
They celebrate each breath.
To others, life is much too hard;
They cannot wait for death.
Partly sunny, partly cloudy,
It is all the same to me.
Life is what we make it.
We see what we want to see.
I write my lyrics bluntly,
Not to be misunderstood.
My listeners interpret them
Whatever way they would.
They say it is the poet’s curse
That readers get it wrong.
But I don’t mind, for what is worse,
Is not to hear the song.
Macomb, New York, 2001
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