John Christensen Poems

The car rolls on down a western road
And she asks him
'And what are you thinking? '
He smiles as he gazes
...

The nascent glow of my corner lamp
Casts doubt on the walls
Red shadows, lurid and mellifluous
Their tone a knell
...

Smoke curls in blue-grey wisps

As I sit before the ashtray
...

What angelic chorals sing?
These messengers of heaven
Whose words are none of earth
Rising like mists amid the mountains
...