My husband's poetry

Author: cfblack

  • Backyard buck

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    cfblack
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    Behind my battered backyard fence, bent boughs, bold bamboo, brazen kudzu begin their annual green grab…again. Morning moves slowly over moss. With singing saw and steel bit I split saplings in two and battle brush. -Suddenly- Through the green, a big, bewildered, broad-chested, bristle-boned buck bounds down the brambled bank. Dry leaves dance. My heart…

  • Ellipsis

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    cfblack
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    Sometimes, our hearts buffer… that small spinning pause between signal and song. I say your name, the moment hesitates… a bird suspended in the grammar of air. The world stutters with wobbled gyrations… in the fragile delay I feel you. Silent promise, our hearts buffer… that small spinning pause between patience and devotion. 3-9-26 Tonight…

  • Resist

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    cfblack
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    When Sylvester stalks the bird feeder, Tweety Bird keeps a watchful eye, refuses to give in to fear, or let the bastard win. 3-9-26

  • The Tree

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    cfblack
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    There is a tree in my dreams. You’ve seen it, too. It sits on a ridge silhouetted against the sky. They use the same tree in dozens of movies. A protagonist sits there waiting to be found by someone who will gift them the resolve to go on. I want to go there, sit under…

  • ‘Wind’ or, ‘Unknowable Essence’

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    cfblack
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    I do not feel, see, hear, taste or smell you, but I feel the heat and searing cold you carry. I see what you move, hear the wind dance with the trees and disturb my sleep. I taste the rain, smell the flowers and cough with your pollen in spring. I know you intimately by…

  • Grief

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    cfblack
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    Grief arrives unannounced …quiet as a mouse in the corner of a room nibbling on forever. There are no witnesses so you try to pretend it’s not happening as it runs up the wall and disappears only to reappear in the mIddle of the night wearing someone else’s face. A clock for a mouth, melted…

  • new posts

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    cfblack
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    As I complete this task of safekeeping, new posts are added at the end. Back to Sept. 2021…

  • McKenna’s dream

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    cfblack
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    Dear Terence, What if your theory is just a dream waiting to be played out in real time? What if it ain’t extra-terrestial intelligence, but just a dream you had while meandering through barnyard dreamscapes? What if it’s wishful thinking trying to make sense, seeking a better world along fictious ancient mycelial cultural pathways? And…

  • Used clothes

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    cfblack
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    abandoned on a thrift store rack does the garment remember the body that wore it that sat cross legged in sun before we pulled it over your head fragrant sweat crushed grass stains abandoned beside us 1-30-26