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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


I am full of projects.
The major one, not to die,
because I have a magic flower
blooming in me.
As days shorten
I am full of destinies
that must be followed.
Lives I must fill.
I am making flotillas of boats,
little white ones of paper
and floating them
in rivers along the curb,
in lakes lifted by rain,
in the sink of water Michael plays in,
in Jackie’s tub,
loaded with the cargo
of their imaginal world.

I am lost in time.
Where did you leave your child
I ask a shadow
playing chase with me.
How many kites must I fly
to get my wings?
Why do poems crawl under fences
to touch me?
How many times will I fall in love
with the same people
before I go,
and something laughs in my ear
when you catch your tail.

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