Hugh Cobb Poems

Truth is always truth no matter its disguise.
Somehow the foolish understand
much better than the wise,
That love is all and love is true
...

Window presents a view:
variegated shades of verdancy
- loud yellow greens to deepest pine
& a thousand tones in between -
...

Driving by a boneyard
in January, I see winter sky
naked trees &
bare stones, row on row
...

Sky's so blue it could pierce your heart.
Fireball at its center slowly moves on its ancient way.
All in all, a day of striking beauty. A feast
for senses: warm, fragrant, life emerging
...

In times of trouble, when all seems lost
& no good outcome can be found,
our beings are shaken, emotions tossed
& our own feet can't hold the ground,
...

Look longingly,
eye on the prize,
distant horizon; whatever...
it is not enough to have
...

Waking without you has become almost natural:
absence of leaves after a storm
branches naked
shivering at a touch of wind.
...

Often I wonder
about my bones:
dry & fragile
after eons of
...

I stare through plate glass with a painter's eye.
Horizon's treeline holds me rapt;
drawn to a small clearing between walls of trees:
focal point: a huge denuded oak with widespread skeletal branches.
...

On my way to a healing workshop, driving North out of the city,
I went under an overpass & nearly lost control when a large
Golden Eagle swooped low across my hood, turned & flew
out to the open sky. His scree pierced steady thrum of engine
...