I pass the old man
on his balcony.
Huge sunglasses
through which he watches
like a
diurnal owl;
the world unfolds below him.
Just like my dad liked to sit.
I don’t wipe away
my tear.
poem-sweater March 13, 2017
I found your cardigan
and held it close
searching for the sensation of your arms.
I gathered up the folds
and held it to my nose
searching for the scent of you.
You’ve been gone too long.
Instead of holding memories
Now
it’s just a sweater
you once wore.
poem- walk for refuge February 8, 2017
During the election
we heard some American folks joke
If he wins, we’re moving to Canada!
and we laughed.
But
four hundred and ten
have really done it.
Last week alone
twenty-two
walked for frozen miles
in minus twenty Celsius
to cross the border
to freedom in
(really?)
Manitoba.
They lost fingers and toes to frost bite,
but not their lives to the sound bites
of a xenophobe.
.
.
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/manitoba/refugees-emerson-border-manitoba-1.3923747
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/manitoba/refugees-frostbite-highway-75-winnipeg-1.3923430
poem- ominous February 7, 2017
The sky could not be bluer
turquoise and ocean and bright summer day
captured on the snow piled like icing on the trees,
but on the horizon
a wall of charcoal grey
hints at a blizzard on its way.
I watch through the window and hope
I’m home before it hits.
poem- believed me January 20, 2017
I believed me
when I told myself I couldn’t do it.
I believed me
when I told myself nothing could be done.
I believed me
when I told myself nothing could change.
I believed me,
but I was wrong.
poem- frost November 30, 2016
Outside
crunching air announces autumn’s
departure.
Inside
your frosty glare says
winter has arrived.
poem- ominous omnipotence November 24, 2016
The clouds sink
obscuring hills with billows:
silver, grey, charcoal, black.
Heavy clouds in cold air
ready to coat the highway with danger.
We gaze out our windows
wondering whether we’ll get home before
the first storm of this winter.
poem- possible impossible November 7, 2016
Possibly,
I’m
impossible.
This posterity
of probability
poses immortality
prompts immorality
indulges the impossible
creates possibility
from infinity.
Assures
I’m possible.
poem- compensations November 4, 2016
It’s a grey day
frost in the air,
but at least I’m greeting it
in a great pair of shoes.
poem- consequences November 2, 2016
Ah!
The cries that ensue
when actions take their logical consequences!
But!
But!
But!
We’re on Earth, you know..
Oh, you might not want to feel the impact of gravity
but if you jump, you will fall.
Suck it up, buttercup.
You did the crime, you get the time.
Rant all you like,
but effect always comes after cause.
It really shouldn’t be such a surprise.
Shawn L. Bird 