Some Poems Lead Lives Of Their Own
John I. Blair
Today I saw a poem I once wrote
Presented in an unexpected spot,
An e-zine with a funky name
And format borderline illegible.
I wasnít asked permission,
Did not care; the editor
Had clearly been out reaping
Unprepossessing poems such as mine,
Thinking, I am sure,
The authors would be blissed
Just to see their sweet birds fly
Yet one more time.
And in my case he was right;
Once I let a poem go
Iím not pissed
If it sells itself upon the street.
Is that someoneís read it,
And passed it on.
If my poem leads a private life,
Unknown to me,
Thatís one small leap
©2011 John I. Blair
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