Marina

majestic, majic
infinite
my little girl is
sun
on the carpet-
out the door
picking a flower, ha!
an old man,
battle-wrecked,
emerges from his
chair
and she looks at me
but only sees
love,
ha!, and I become
quick with the world
and love right back
just like I was meant
to do.

by Charles Bukowski

Comments (3)

Oh Dawn Fuzan! In all this world there are so few I would hope to talk to moreso than this beautiful being, May Swenson... Alas, I must wait for the stars to part for my soul to reach her... And I'm saving a very particular smile for that very day..... This incredibly lovely confessional poetry just ripped through me....
May This is a good poem, keep it up
To read with it is good. But real meaning is beyond ordinary reader and a little tough it is felt.