James McLain Poems

dances, a flower waves.
it's life so short, wind is
lifted up in sky, mercies.
it's feet a flutter, moving,
...

Clean the house of plays,
of clingy vines,
all scents amaze it's nose.
It searches high, so very
...

She leans, so wind bows,
in silk is barely with heavenly.
Governed waves airy rags.
Languid her penitent looks,
...

I can not make a bowling ball
grow from a peanut..
It can only walk around you,
watching your ink run, out the holes
...

In the beckoning it was she,
happy at sea,
riding waves of soft shaded pink.
A sharp sting of red, witness,
...

Rims are not rims,
lids are as different as are the cans, is
to the jar we stew our potatoes in.
The process is messy at times the first
...

When you,
touched me the first time,
You cried.
The shock,
...

You look right in, through me.
This window,
my wave it sings of foam and needs.
Unknown to others,
...

All washed-up, once more
again on shore,
against the old jagged rocks.
...

What we can, I peek out to see.
Grand serpant mounds.
One hill, total eclipse, of the moon.
Back and forth the Squirrely, squirrel.
...