Richard Greene Poems

April’s over
having, it seems, only just begun.
Once past the apex
we speed ever faster.
...

Night having gathered the haze
woven by the heat of day
come dawn
has laid it to ground
...

Though winter is with us still
the birds have begun to sing,
to the cues of spring,
first a cardinal, then a wren
...

I was there
when you were squeezed
from your mother’s womb,
coming into the world
...

The hazy morning air
though honey gold
supports no bees
only dry leaves
...

Hens pattern the chicken coop,
splotches of chestnut and white,
depositing eggs
like Fabergé favors,
...

I was a serious boy
and most of my life
rarely indulged in silliness.
Oh, I was prone to the inadvertent kind,
...

As I turn on the radio
this Saturday afternoon
opera swells out
from where I left the dial
...

My sister lives on a Caribbean isle,
little more than a dust mote on a map,
no realm of magic,
nor Ariel, nor Caliban
...

I feel your heartbeat
even though we’re not touching
when we see each other and smile
after I’ve been away.
...