Barry Middleton Poems

I'm not afraid
of death
but I am afraid
of dying
...

On a day in December,
with days growing short,
memory is an ember,
firing life's last resort.
...

how must we paint astonishment
we speak about the rose
the breathlessness of love
...

be with the laughter of green grieving
beneath the shadow, the summer hawk
that comes to take a life and give
the fledgling hope for another day
...

Somewhere a cottage painted white,
that sits nearby an ebon stream,
is waiting in a misty light,
that all the pain of life redeems.
...

Not much room behind the wall,
a secret garden meek and small.

There a hermit takes his chair,
...

remember when we believed
there was a secret door

that showed itself in dreams
...

Down the beach was rocky coral,
split, bleached, and tossed
by a million sighs of the sea.
...

Like being, like breath,
the breeze brings life,
tempering Florida's heat.
...

Morning sky,
bright sun,
fish eagle
of the marsh
...