P.O.V.

Lying on my back in the woods

Lying on my back in the woods (Photo credit: Christopher Robbins)

When I had the blues,
the whole of life
required me to look Up,
just to be.
I’ve got friends
in Australia and
South Africa
who are just
as certain
they’re heads,
trees, and
chimneys
are pointed
skyward, i.e. “Up.”
Though there are
some dopes who would
think otherwise.
I guess it’s all in
your point of view.
A supreme being,
from a supreme
promontory,
sees the Earth
and the Sun,
and its giraffes,
‘roos
and me
falling, spinning
out of control,
through this
limitless Universe,
and thinks any
Northern hemispheric bias
and bottom-of-the-blues-well
world view are
hysterical.
In that light,
I’ll just lie
here on the grass,
I think horizontally,
but it really
doesn’t matter,
just to be.

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4 thoughts on “P.O.V.

  1. That is a fun poem, Joe, and pays attention to something that I certainly and I’m sure almost everyone in both hemispheres will think about sometimes: which way up! Thank you for reminding me.

    Have you ever tried to drink a beer standing upside down?

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