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      July 12, 2023NeglectLeslie Gerber

      Already, still morning,
      I have fed someone helpless
      and attended to the needs of a dog
      but as I walked
      my little hobbling walk with her,
      I failed to worship the sky.
      As I ate precious cheese
      I forgot to thank
      the cows, farmers, microbes who made it.
      The generous world grants me bounty
      beyond measure every day,
      yet I spend my time
      regretting my losses,
      a ship with its paint cracking,
      neglecting to thank the ocean for its buoyancy.

      from #80 - Summer 2023

      Leslie Gerber

      “One month about twenty years ago I started having a series of nightmares. I had not written poetry before, although I’ve been a writer of prose all my life. These dreams led me to write a series of poems. My wife, a very successful writer, looked at them and encouraged me to continue. Now it’s two decades and three books later and I’m still writing.”