Juan Olivarez Poems

Home is a dim, half remembered thought,
Like a quest of old, by knights long sought.
That humanity, for an ideal, furiously fought.
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A little ball of furr,
Is sleeping in my hand.
A little tabby kitty, her,
Purring smoothly, as she can.
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Brilliant meteor way up high,
On a collision course with Earth.
Falling from the evening sky,
Like a roman candle in the north.
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They say you can't go home again,
But i'm sure gonna try.
But i'm not gonna take a train,
And i'm sure as hell not going to fly.
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Night Crawlers wiggling in my hand,
They are the best bait in all the land.
Night Crawlers, six and a half inch long,
From the heart of Texas, you can't go wrong.
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The Atlantic is cold, so very cold,
like the heart of a deceitful lover.
Who stole your heart, like so much gold,
And cast it off from a jagged tower.
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Theres a cold front blowing through,
rain comes to the desert for a shortened spell.
The sky turns grey from it's electric blue,
the desert willow is loosing it's bells.
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Little caterpillar, climbing the tree,
To the topmost branches, he makes his way.
Up high to the top, where the air is free,
Starts looking for a diner, without delay.
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Blood red wine, of the better sort,
Warming, gentle, genuine, comfort.
Would you join me, in a small glass of port.
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Hello old friend, it's been so long,
A whole calender year has passed.
You look well, exceedingly strong,
Since that day in July, that I saw you last.
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