-- The Cloak of Anonymity --

John Herlihy

The cloak of anonymity I often easily wear,

Its air of invisibility comforting as a prayer.

The poet writes with no burden from fame,

Seen in the streets no one knows his name.

With no reputation that he must live up to,

He is free to write what his mind can spew.

Totally at ease in the middle of the crowd,

A tree in a forest, silent, nothing said aloud.

Waves of adulation, heaps of praise, more,

All waves to break apart on another’s shore.

Whispers he hears he writes down as words,

Ancient melodies that recall wisdom of birds.

All bound up in this frayed cloak of anonymity,

Touched by spirit breath, an enduring mystery.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Wednesday 4 January 2023