Ephemera
I remain non-committal about admitting that happiness
is ephemeral
the happiness that is deliberately infrequent
the most glancing of moments
the not being caught in the storm
the swollen ankle less swollen today
an astonishing photograph of your son in Ha Long Bay
a complicit smile from a stranger in a bus
in between is
the refugee thing that isn’t getting any better
president 45
the tomato plants destroyed by a hail storm
which are not, however, a wholesale forest fire in
Portugal
then, there is the unexpected laughter
of my serious doctor friend
the unveiling of a perfectly furry yellow peach
and you
my French husband who longs to come home
the filigree gates swing wide open to the valley
misunderstood by most, but
who cares? who cares?
the wolves no longer howl here
and tonight we shall walk to the theatre.
Poem first published in PN Review
(prestigious British literary magazine)
UK, edition 246, 2019
Photo Credit: Hoàng Long , June 2017
To Let Go
you walked with me this morning
in the woven grasses of a slow beginning
each mossy step known to this place of yours
its rusty lichen stubborn bush and lost trinkets
you call to the eagles as you have since boyhood
antidote to the grunge of a provincial town
yesterday, clanking home in the bus I saw
two half drunk Coke bottles jaunty at the edge
of our field. they were still there this morning paired
and complicit. what if I no longer stroke your head
finding (at last) the courage
to see you on your way?
Poem first published in takahē literary magazine, issue 93, August 2018
New Zealand
Pantheon Clock
Poem first published in Southerly Literary Magazine, Sydney University, Australia
Volume 78, Number 3 2018