Ode to Accomplishment

I like you imperfectly, the way I like stars. Of stars I know so little I should probably keep mum, for the stars burn away though we see their light, for the stars collapse, for the human eye converts them to heroes–akin I think to the affairs of living. For I love success and work. For I admire the steadfastness of children. And the stoicism of the old I admire most of all. You see my predicament. I like you. You are not of heaven or earth. You are never never still.

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto