The Road Away

I tried to walk the streets,

I tread when I was young;

stopping time and again,

reviewing what’s been done.

Remembered where and when,

the dreams I keep were born;

and began to comprehend,

where yesterday had gone.


I’d not remained to watch,

the changes going on;

and now on my return,

there was emptiness, not song.

The roads had all diverged,

and taken everything along;

and I was just one traveler now,

and very far from home.


 Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2010. All rights reserved.

E-mail to Emily

I’m somebody! Who are you?

I know you’re somebody, too.

Then there’s more of us – we’ll tell!

We’ll write each other, you know.

How dreary to be nobody!

How private, like a cog

Hiding our names the livelong day

instead of writing a blog!

Responding to one of my favorite poems.

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2010. All rights reserved.

Dress Code

 “What?”, asks the principal,

forgetting that I take

my role as an educator seriously …


“You don’t like looking at that?”,

when I mention

that the short shorts

are too too short –

and that it is hot

and about to get hotter.


“They’re children”, I remind him

and he laughs

and retorts the way he does,

by saying, “have you seen,

how some of the teachers dress”?


“That’s you’re job too”, I say

… but everything seems funny

I guess, when you’re a clown.


Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2010. All rights reserved.