Three Poems by Jene Beardsley

Epitaph

To most his life looked somewhat dim,
But rooms within held shelf on shelf
Of shining autobiography.
They would have read for years. Yet he,
Like God, did not reveal himself
To those who did not believe in him.


Astrology

Never wish upon a star--
It has no influence this far.
Stars will always go away
As if to get the thing we pray
Yet coming back the following night
Bring nothing but their lonely light.
But if you still think stars exist
To help us with our dust and mist,
Wish on the one that gives us day
To work stark longing into clay.


Geriatric

Some things old
Cast out for the new
We have simply forgotten
The loveliness of
Until they turn ugly
For being called ugly
And we feel justified
Casting them out.

{Poetry by Jene Beardsley}