My husband's poetry

Category: habits

  • Monday morning

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    cfblack
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    He stirs last night’s ash Blows a spark to flame Sips his coffee warm Nods to the night shift nurse, who goes four times around the park Smiles at the muscle shirt dude Who walks three dogs and never scoops Greets the bright colored walking stick lady All dressed in white Watches an anole race…

  • next week

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    cfblack
    in ,

    All his life He imagined himself A great painter And swore He will start painting Next week Sixty years later He imagines himself Having his first retrospective At a famous New York gallery Aspiring young thespians Serve cheap wine And fancy finger food Last night He woke up Stressing That he still hadn’t Started the…

  • Sunday

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Sitting on your porch reading a magazine and you want to Google the veracity of a statement and you can’t. Sitting on your porch reading a magazine and you want to Google the veracity of that statement, but you’re too damn lazy to go inside and get on your computer and you don’t. Sitting on…

  • Do

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    by

    cfblack
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    Something in me always says I don’t have time to read the READERS WRITE section of Sun magazine so I pass over it. It must be some childhood trigger which causes me to do this so I continue to do this every month. It’s a habit and I don’t care. _____ When I get to…

  • When shadows block the sun

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    by

    cfblack
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    If I cast my shadow behind me at the pond, turtles do not jump from bank to water. In our yard, I sit in a faded yellow chair my wife wants me to throw away. I don’t care what the neighbors think; why replace what conforms comfortably to my form? I go inside to pee,…