My husband's poetry

Category: singing

  • Gibson’s war

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    After the war, After bodies were cleared, Mass graves dug up, Photographed and catalogued. After the rubble was pushed aside, and reconstruction begun, You found an abandoned instrument with broken strings. Because this was all you could handle and it did not stink of death, You thought of all the songs it had sung Cradled…

  • Cicadas

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    All night they sing in the trees hoping to breed and some of them breed and those that don’t, sing and they sing all night and some of them sing all morning and into the afternoon until it is night, again and you wonder do they sing in shifts or do they sing while sleeping…