Jon Butter Poems

The silhouette of your shoulder,
Moonlit and naked.
I see you turn your head and
Breathe the Paris night.
...

You don’t really like people.
You’re committed to beauty.
You see the canvas and the only relationship
You need is with color and the transfer of
...

The harbor buoy peals on the ferry's rolling waves.
Old houses, wind battered, line the same coast line
that 100 years before held only shells and creatures.
The clouds and water look the same: Gray, ancient, tired.
...

I wish I could go back and
not make the same mistakes.

Cleaning out our bedroom closet,
...

Cardigan above the knotty pine,
All granite peak and snowy cap.
The fire that burned your
Alpine scrub left you naked.
...

As the Spring thaw runs out of snow,
The roaring waterfalls return to trickles, and
Wild flowers burst like children laughing,
Painting the fields with contagious colors:
...

You look at the pages that sweat and chewed fingernails produced
Over way too many hours that could have been spent at the beach.

You peruse, with polite distance and gentle judgment, the work.
...

I miss you God.

My mind aches from too much worry.
Where is serenity?
...

Do you know how happy you’ve made me?
Like sunlight on the first morning after two weeks of rain.
My heart doesn’t know want when I’m near you,
Except for you.
...

I'm so tired
of your sex,
But if you
were gone
...