John W. McEwers Poems

Waddling, she is.
And I want that waddle.
I want to be the uneven sidewalk beneath her undersized feet.
They are so small I can't believe she walks upright.
...

There was a grasshopper in my garden
Looking at me with his bug eyes.
And couldn't keep from thinking
How much more he must know
...

And the flowers I see aren't really there
my garden bare
i let them rot you see, she left me
cause I was me, too me for her to be
...

At twilight she smiles at me
and I love the way she does
, so friendly, so warm
is her embrace that I remember
...

Blowing, crossfire,
The wind never forgives those standing in the way.
As I was, when you came
across the street,
...

Pluck
a chord
a cord of ligaments
attach my throat to timber
...

Life has no parent
no one to soothe its misery
or its crying
in the night
...

In the majesty
of nightime's swallow
the right time for loss
the cold time for dogs.
...

This one,
the last. one.
The one before it
matters.
...

Tandem bikes and laughter and spring has returned to pierce my ears
With
Faux-happy people, eating ice cream with buckets.
...