New York Pitch Reviews, Algonkian Writer Conferences, Poetry

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PostPosted: 29 Nov 2017, 23:42 
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Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14
Posts: 709
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unpublished elsewhere - not representing another Forum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'


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