The Wandering Caravan of Nothingness 

The glory is: This is the glory!

The time with friends who love and understand us,

(The very few along the way.)

The pets we love and lose,

And sometimes, we find them again.

They were having a good time by the swimming pool all along.

The strangeness and beauty of family,

The ties that bind,

The trophies we come to see as phonies

And try to flush them down totem holes,

The tears, like wine, we drink that flow,

As we discover, 

The glory is: This is the glory!

I wanted to write a poem that would make people cry,

And a voice inside said, “Cry it!”

And I dreamed a dream that night

Of the great wandering caravan of nothingness,

The band of gypsy life I had joined.

And I cried as I wrote this,

Great healing tears of understanding 

And sadness and joy,

But I have tried,

And I have found

That I can’t write that poem quite yet.

-jenn