April 13, 2018




I have no imagination, none at all

couldnt imagine a thing if you showed me

my minds as dry and as dusty as

old stuff cram-filling an older attic

facts? Ive got them by the bucket-full

trivia? Ive a nauseatingly endless stock

but of imagination neither whiff nor scent

I bring it in by bulk from outside suppliers

like Rembrandt or Hitchcock or Lewis

whose spirits, soaring where mine cannot be

fill my empty rooms with their brilliance


A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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Each New Day A Miracle
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