When I spend some time with poems written in past years, I often realize that they are my diary. As expressions of the emotions of that long ago past, they remind me of the difficult roads I have travelled. Have I evolved with the dinosaurs?
He watched a spell-bound little girl,
magically transported
by a purple dinosaur.
It preached love and caring.
He wondered whether the extinct creature
recognized the irony it represented.
Ancient creatures,
and modern little girls,
had become the commonality of his life.
The span of the centuries
had not cured him.
Women surrounded him.
They tore at the layers of his being.
They caressed his insecurity.
They challenged his ability to live his life,
loving.
He was a Neanderthal,
struggling to survive,
armed with a stick,
travelling through deadly marsh gas.
He feared the monstrous anger
of an unthinking beast.
Could he escape his past?
