Dwindling Warmth and Comfort of Our Days

Our discussion forum for topics related to writer's block, poetry, the literary arts in general, and anything else of cosmic import.
Post Reply
Message
Author
Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Dwindling Warmth and Comfort of Our Days

#1 Post by Bernie01 » 29 Nov 2017, 23:42

Bernard Henrie
mojave216bernard@aol.com
Original poem
unpublished elsewhere - not representing another Forum




Dwindling Warmth and Comfort of Our Days'

Birds, dented and off course.
Men on porches, rough as goats.
My face stern as a warden
guarding inmates.

Did I mention my wife died?
She loved Barcelona and painted
Under rain faded cork trees,
Bright colors of a child’s crayon.

Her touch wore white gloves,
She drank Dubonnet with me.
Her sundress clean and stiff
As a girl at first Communion.

I am not able to sleep at night.
Not that I sleep during the day.
The drifting clutter of low voices
like a poorly tuned radio.

Dusk comes on. Winter solstice
drops down.
Already I'm the oldest person
I know by first name.


Timothy Steele'

Post Reply