David Kowalczyk Poems

If death
was not
death,
it would be
...

Sartre could have only been senseless.
He never could have known a sunset,
a rainbow, or the scent of lilacs in May.
...

The faces
of God
...

Cold.
Gray.
Granite.
...

You
had a
good time.
...

His heart a wound
brooding and dark,
he prays for days
when the clouds
...

Primitive myths paint
death as black,
life white.
...

Every season
brings its own
unique wisdom.
...

Be not surprised
when the gift
you receive is not
the gift you asked for.
...