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The Little Prince


by Roberto C. Garcia


& where, I wonder, is the poet's planet,
What kind of king, or queen rules it?

I lasso a star & go see if I can find it.

A prize rules the first planet I come to.
Gold, shiny & full of compliments,
Move on, it said, you didn't win.

My star hadn't left yet so I lasso again.

A podium rules the next planet I come to.
Polished oak with many seats in front of it,
We are very learnéd here, it said. Are you?

I wrap my arms around my star.

A statue rules the next planet I come to.
Gray, well dressed & drinking tea,
Sorry, it said, I'm too busy being a poet.

At this point my star looks to me with sad eyes,
As if to say shouldn't we go home.

An open door rules the next planet I come to.
Old & weathered it hangs open, dark inside.
The world of poets, it said, is inside.

Inside the door, I asked.
Inside, inside, it replied.

& I tell my star to leave,
& I walk inside,
& inside is another inside.

& now I am happy.

 

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