For Karl Popper

I take refuge

In the search for truth

But what is truth?

Is it knowledge?

Is it possessing knowledge?

Rather,

It’s the quest for truth

That defines us

Poem 29

Spring

A riot of words

Like

Sludge and dreck

And mud and glop

Bake my noodle

On gray days

I just want to sleep

And sleep

Offering warmth

To cool bed-sheets

Downstairs

Releasing an hour

Or two

To quiet

Until

Finally

Spring arrives

Late as usual

And noisy as a lawn mower

Poem 30

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