Max Reif Poems

Where it came from
is a mystery
like the virgin birth.
...

When the trees flower pink and white
filigree, and the sleeping
god comes back to life
...

I came up to our preschool classroom
with my guitar, just in time
to do Circle. The children
were filing out the door
...

Everywhere,
feet upon the same earth,
like the bases of trees
going down to deep roots,
...

The miner works
the deep, dark earth,
far down a long, thin shaft,
...

The bee goes for the nectar,
diving to the center of the flower,
madly drinking all he can devour,
...

I hold the steering wheel
of the car in my hands,
I hold the world,
...

The cough-spasms linger,
the illness lingers
and secretly I'm glad it lingers
because I need a parenthesis
...

Oh, words,
you were empty vessels
grazing on virgin hillsides,
transparent to the sun.
...

Years ago she broke up with me.
I wanted to be a hero and get her back,
even though she was hot
for our bearded, beatnik best friend
...