Dick Holmes Poems

A high-pitched little birdie
in the cedar near the window
wails my rainy day blues.
...

When this otherwise
normal guy
gets too excited, he
suddenly bulks up into
...

I met her in a place halfway between
Heaven and Hell, a singular bar
by the name of Twelve Bar Blues.
Singular because, for one thing, its name
...

Three titles in search of
a poem —
'Unentitled, '
'Field of Weeds, ' and
...

'There are words for things, '
says a Sunday breeze gusting in the trees,
'but things themselves are wordless.
And actually there is only one thing —
...

... now...
the hour
of our
death-
...

Long, long ago, the world
managed to climb atop a giant
ancient camel and headed out,
slow-motion step by step, across
...

Arm in arm, Past and Future
work the same street. They were
really something in their youth,
irresistible, enchanting princesses,
...

It's part of a story told in first person,
the narrator defining how it was for him
in the context of what happened,
embedded in countless others' contexts.
...

I'm flying low over a wheat field
when I spot what looks like
a flock of crows in the near distance.
I recognize them
...