Early Poems XIII

These are early poems of mine, written starting as a boy around age eleven, then as a teenager in high school and my first two years of college, plus a few that were written a bit later in my early twenties. 

Am I
by Michael R. Burch

Am I inconsequential;
do I matter not at all?
Am I just a snowflake,
to sparkle, then to fall?

Am I only chaff?
Of what use am I?
Am I just a feeble flame,
to flicker, then to die?

Early Poems X

These are early poems of mine written beginning as a boy around age eleven, through my teens in high school and as a college freshman and sophomore, plus a few that were written in my early twenties. 

Myth
by Michael R. Burch

after the sprung rhythm of Dylan Thomas

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

Early Poems VI

These are early poems I wrote from age eleven through my teens as a high school and college freshman and sophomore. A few poems may be a bit later, date-wise, since my record-keeping was inconsistent in my youth.

El Dorado
by Michael R. Burch

It's a fine town, a fine town,
though its alleys recede into shadow;
it's a very fine town for those who are searching
for an El Dorado.

Early Poems IV

These are early poems of mine, written as a boy starting around age eleven into my teens as a high school student and my first two years of collete. A few may have been written a bit later; I'm not always sure of composition dates due to inconsistent record keeping in my youth. 

Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch

for my mother, Christine Ena Burch, who was always a little giggly girl at heart

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