“Why Not?” by Ken McKeon


Why Not?

Bits of early morning traffic noise, bird chirps, one droning plane,

Too sleepy to even think of saying

Leave me alone,

But I am up and could read, so do,
Homer’s tale,
Frightful pain, graphic deaths,
Give me a break.

Rise to open the window, gray here, but eastward quite a sight:

The low sun above the Berkeley hills,
Half a bright ball complete with, of all things,
Sun borne spokes on a golden wheel,
Rolling down the line.

I bet the sea beyond the western gate
Is wine dark too, for if this sun is here right now,

Why not?

–by Ken McKeon

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