Bill Grace Poems

It is a truth not understood in youth
That those who get to paint the queen
Do best not to presume
Upon their majestie’s knowledge of subtle things
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A mountain moved before the house
It is the garbage truck seen without glasses
Or was it only a hill, a mound, an eminence?
I doubt the driver cares about linguistic precision
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When the daughter of fourteen years gave the unbidden ‘thank you’
I was surprised – mind – not being on folded laundry
It made me reflect on the father who raised me
The emperor who never said thank you nor his boss
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They say the Tsunami moved Japan ten miles
Given that we do not understand what we are up against
I nominate this thing called prayer
Not the type to garner votes for want to be Presidents
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athered at lunch with friends and film
The film is the fifth in a series celebrating mass rocketry violence
The drinks are pleasant the company pleasant
The movie ends
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The wonder of a friend lost
Is that so little was spoken
Unlike those of field and pen
Much more than a nod would have been the exception
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The shadow is that which comes
When flesh stands before the son
Discovers a cast of darkness not near so real
As when a recipient from others of their evil it feels.
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When I read the great poets
I do not forgive myself for being mediocre
I marvel at their great gifts of real, sometimes their rhythm and rhyme
Sometimes their capacity for play
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My daughter informs
She will put my ashes with the Statue of Liberty
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My daughter informs
She will put my ashes with the Statue of Liberty
Her mother does not concur
The discussion is of consequences
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