After
yesterday’s tears,
Today
on the breeze
I hear the
laughter
of angels
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
poem- clown tears August 11, 2014
Our laughter
will have a poignant pain,
knowing now
what such joy
cost you.
.
.
.
#RIPRobinWilliams
poem-fickle August 9, 2014
Weather,
when in Calgary
changes her clothes
with the dizzying
rapidity of a thirteen year old
trying to figure out
what to wear to the school dance,
then rushes off
leaving chaos in her wake.
poem-there
There
in that alley
was the beginning
of dreams
of possibility
of wishes.
There
in that alley
was where imagining
became the tool
for all that was to be.
There
in that alley
was the first place
I was me.
poem-scribble August 8, 2014
This unending line
describes a metaphor for life,
our unending spinning through
the routines of daily life,
dark moments where we’ve
gotten stuck in a groove,
and there,
where it leaves the paper,
departure for
another plane.
.
.
.
.
(This might be fun to try as a shape poem)
poem-missing August 7, 2014
Three thirty-three in the morning
I awaken, drenched in sweat.
I turn on the fan,
waiting for sleep to return
wishing that you were beside me.
poem-lampstand August 6, 2014
I walk through my
childhood neighbourhood.
Just because,
I lean against the lamp post
I held up every morning
in grade seven
as I waited for the bus.
Different weather
but always too
early in the morning.
More rusty,
it hummed
a greeting
remembering
(or maybe
that was me).
Shawn L. Bird 