Bill Cushing Poems

Up where the mountains
curl like sleeping dragons,
peaks piercing
far above the clouds,
...

Slowly circling,
the pelican

drops like a stone
...

Hair bobs around a face
of Nefertitian beauty:
She sits with an arm
draped over the arm
...

The wolf bares fangs
even when sleeping.

Legs move
...

A shape appears
and is gone,
comes into view,
disappears, until,
...

If you’ve done life right
you do not feel or even
see the years coming
until they have long passed.
...

Chrome and black tile at breakfast again;
coffee’s so strong it pulls your eyelids back
going down, and while last evening’s drunks,
with five a.m. shadows, use it
...

They flock
to the park
cloaked in black,
perched on benches in the Winter sun,
...

Kneeling on the floor,
thumbing through the albums
around me, I see
the pictures:
...

- kitten -
A tail twitches
from a skate
alone and
...