Tag: Poem

Time Enough

There is a time for grief
and yet
no depth of grief will
matter when it is time
Still
time is all we can hope for
Time enough to pool the tears
To hold them long enough
to distill
the poem
Water
into
wine

Waif

Following the old lines
of lost sad fishermen
up from the depths
to the empty nets
salt glistening from the
tickle of the moon’s
light on the ghost ships
plying the night
on the Great Lakes
I found a poem
A smallish waif
afraid of the dark
Unwilling to wet its
toe on the page

Drinking With Shadows

Tumbleweed bounces
down the street where
poetry used to roam
while the Marshal sits
far back in the
corner of the saloon
drinking with shadows
refusing to go anywhere
Whatever killed the poems
is still out there
He’s seen enough death
so he stays
and drinks
and stares

The Muse Speaks

The muse has gathered my bones
in a wicker picnic basket
which she shakes violently
whenever I ask
what I should write
“This! This!”
she yells
as she rattles
my bone basket madly
around her head
“This is what a poem
sounds like!
Are you deaf?
Write it!”

Foraging For Poetry

I went out the back door
this morning looking
for a poem
Sometimes I’ll find one
lying around
Stuck between the slats
of the deck but
today there was only a
chilly west wind scratching
at the bare sweet gum
trees and a few leaves
dancing across the grass
while the clouds played
babysitter
I’ll try later