Herbert Nehrlich Poems

A small and green but drunken frog
sat in the evening on his log.
He contemplated there on life
and wished he had a green frog wife.
...

So they sat on a beach, in reflection
talked of medicine's fatal direction.
Disagreement set in
when she said with a grin
...

Silently, with awkward patience, leads the clock's metallic hand,
round and round, to all its stations, twelve in number, still and bland.
Take your eyes now off the action, tend your garden or your home
quickly slips another fraction, OFF, why not a metronome?
...

White man had fouled the land of ice and snow,
his home,
their poisons driven off the caribou,
the whales
...

I have been thinking,
those times you are not here
are filled with thoughts
most all of which concern
...

I place you,
gently
on your pillow,
first on your back,
...

Magnetically Adorable Gladiola,
Deliciously Drooling,
Amiably Lingering,
Electrifyingly Non-naughty,
...

He was out cold
and smiled,
parched lips
apart, and two
...

They send them still to foreign lands,
with blessings of the folks who stay;
uplifting this, that wave of hands
the faithful citizens will pray.
...

Down near the billboard,
on fifty-seventh Street,
right where it intersects
with fancy fifth Avenue
...