Ken Siegelman

THE LEPRECHAUNS

There’s something of a poet
In everyone who arcs a rainbow from their memory,
But cannot quite put in place the colors
Or the time of day when it occurred...
Perhaps its more a drawing from a children’s book
And some recollection of small men known as Leprechauns Searching for that treasure you believed in Though you never saw it for yourself... It’s then you learned quite early on, that the search is always more important Than the journey’s end... But, sometime after that you came to easily forget Most of what you learned to value as a child... Of course rainbows Stayed inside some early memory In your greying years, When you still confused the place of colors Or the time of day when they occurred - But by then the pot of gold Was in your hand, And you wisely smiled and gave it To the Leprechauns instead.