Richard L. Matta
Legacy
Let them say he was the sputtering firework who never knew a joke or two. The drab paint on a wall best at holding shadows. Silent to this day, he who imagined a new life with reckless sparkle in his eyes. A mule freed from the plow turned to stallion, jumping expectation’s fences, only to fracture a bone. And now, at the edge of a cliff, wheelchair out of charge, asking me why.
just upstream
from where a river divides
the anchor grabs
yet it drags through mud ...
and again time decides
About the Author
Richard L. Matta grew up in New York’s Hudson Valley, attended university, practiced forensic science, and now lives in San Diego. Some of his haiku, tanka and haibun are in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Akitsu Quarterly, Bottle Rockets, and Presence. His long-form poetry is found in various journals, including Gyroscope, Dewdrop, Ancients Path, and Healing Muse.