HUMBLE
BY JAMES A. GALGANO
WHO AM I TO QUESTION
EACH UNANSWERED REPLY
THAT MELTS QUIETLY
UPON EVERY FOLLOWING PAGE
OF NEVER WONDERING WHY
WHILE I SEARCH FOR ANSWERS
THAT MIGHT RESPOND APPROPRIATELY
TO EACH UNWRITTEN RAGE’S RETORT
PUZZLED BY EVERY HUMAN TEAR
AS THEY SLOWLY DRY AND FLAKE
UPON EACH LESS THAN GLOWING REPORT
BURROWED INTO SORROW’S SNOW
OF WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
BUT NOW WILL NEVER BE
POSSIBLY ONE MAY NEVER KNOW
UNABLE TO TURN AWAY WITH LESS THAN ANGER
UPON MEMORY’S TORRENTIAL SEA
WITHOUT A STAR OR COMPASS TO GUIDE
THROUGH TOMORROW’S GOLDEN GATE
THEREFORE REMAINING ADRIFT
WITHOUT REPLY, UPON A FRAGILE RAFT
OF ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES
