Sometimes it’s good to take another look at old prejudices.


Good Enough

Pleasure is the measure, a configuration
of rhyming words, so adroit that
it jumped from the page, in someone else’s
writing

And the cleverness put my mind at work, turning
the words over and laying them back
against one another, like mirror images
that trap the seriousness of me

I would like to think my ordered life
has other measures
and carries a worth too illusive
for catchy phrases

But it caught me by the throat, dead center
this pleasure that is so much the measure
of the days I lay aside, unmirrored
Good enough I sigh and look out the window

Poetry Collection: The Smell of Tweed and Tobacco
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman’s
poetry collection

THE SMELL OF TWEED
AND TOBACCO

available here in print
or as an e-Book
in your favorite formats.

Save

Save