His Very Last Poem
Paul Hostovsky
was just a tiny thing,
a handful of unrhymed couplets
about the warm tears
of old men,
tears that bless everything,
help nothing, no one–
each line like an empty clothesline
with a few orphan clothespins,
no clothes, no colors flapping
in the breeze. Just the sagging
line with its suggestion of a house
on one side, a tree on the other,
or two trees and no house–
then the clothespins flying away.
Paul Hostovsky’s poems have won a Pushcart Prize, two Best of the Net Awards, the FutureCycle Poetry Book Prize, the Muriel Craft Bailey Award, and have been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, The Writer's Almanac, and the Best American Poetry blog. His newest book of poems is Perfect Disappearances, forthcoming from Kelsay Books.