four short poems about my worries

one:  getting ready to teach you

worried about a possible drought,
i emptied all the water from the jug.
it seemed stupid, but then
i know so little
of thirst.

two:   words

words have to come out somewhere
and i worry that they’ll pass through
the blackness of your skin
like sweat,
dark, salty, 
but unrecognizable
to me. 

three: fundamental error

someone suggested that
it will be like banging my head
against stone walls,
but i replied
that more likely
it could be my wall
that will do the banging
against their heads.

four: worried about meeting

i am blind
and ignorant,
and come from far away,
more a confused suitor
than a visiting authority,
because poetry’s about finding
each other.

—greg alexander

(Greg going to LEAP School this summer with his wife, Barbara Blasdel. He is thinking deeply about his upcoming trip this summer, and these poems are his thoughts around that.)