Rich Feitelberg has had several of his poems published. This page lists the most recent two poems.
If I seem dead, do not mourn, or cry, or weep.
For I am not really gone, but merely fast sleep.
Should I wake, I will kiss you lightly upon your lips.
Then, at the shallow pond, toss stones, watching as each one skips.
But if my slumber continues on, I will dream about our lives
And when you see me smiling, you will know that our love thrives.
So do not rouse me suddenly or distrub my prolonged rest
For when we meet again, my dear, you will know who I love best.
Published February, 2012 in the Aziza Quarterly
in the same worn spot
on the couch
he always does.
His gray hair slicked back,
spectacles at the end of his nose.
He sits hunched forward
elbows on knees
from last week
spread before him.
He does not see the words
but thinks of his life
and paths not taken
women he could have loved
but never did.
children he wanted but never had
places he's seen in books
but never visited or explored
food he could've have tried but left untasted
Experiences wasted or gone unsavored.
and pushes his spectacles up
on his nose
to his the newspaper,
his only friend.
Published in an anthology of poems at the end of 2011