My husband's poetry

Category: childhood

  • Listening to the BBC

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Glenn was an adolescent cool boy We met In seventh grade band He was smarter than me Played clarinet better than I played trombone In science class, we learned Descartes Tortured animals in the pursuit of knowledge _____ My friend would tell stories of tying cats tails together Lighting them on fire to watch them…

  • Eggs benedict with chorizo on the side

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Chilly Mother’s Day, rock and roll elevator music overhead played bad. Traffic on the street honks off beat. Everyone needs a job, and the musician’s union pays well. Honeysuckle in the planter, sparrows scavenge breadcrumbs at my feet, dog dish begs water by a bench while families gather outside a restaurant waiting for a text…

  • H.O.R.S.E.

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Who decided to spell H.O.R.S.E. that this was the way to see who was the best shot in the neighborhood? Today, I watched young kids play H.O.R.S.E. and doubt they ever rode a horse at summer camp or enjoyed Roy Rogers on TV Shoot to disarm and never to kill dreamed of crying High Oh…

  • Dear Siri

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Because there was no how-to manual and GPS does not chart every trail in the wilderness of relationships, Because my mother was a perfectionist, I don’t know when good Is good enough, And because I’m a soul having a bodily experience for my first and only time, I wake up in the middle of the…

  • green haiku

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    smell of fresh cut grass small birds pick among scythed plants you among days gone 4-25-22

  • Sunday haiku

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    by

    cfblack
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    beneath the willow tree hidden childhood memories where no one can see 4-42-22

  • Clover

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    by

    cfblack
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    clover blossoms fresh picked flower necklaces childhood memories searching for four leaf clover honey bees and bare feet momma pull the stinger out 4-17-22

  • The culvert

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    We followed a stream through a wooded ravine that ended at the mouth of a large culvert in a hill Inside, we walked ankle deep in water and stopped stooped over in half light staring into a deep pool You picked up a stone threw it in and waited to hear it hit bottom; our…

  • Waking

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    …you are a tuning fork, a singing bowl, strings pulled taut over hollowed wood, a wind chime in your mother’s open kitchen window waiting for the morning breeze. 3-20-22

  • paper airplanes

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    I used to covet paper to fold into a perfect plane bend its wing to the warm air Try to sneak mom’s good paper outside onto the porch without her seeing Reams of paper at my disposal to fold and toss into the wind and I forgot how to dream 3-7-22