David McLansky Poems

I grieve,
Not for the days
That are done,
But for the days
...

That life was just a prison camp,
The circled shacks, the mud and damp;
The squinting eyes of prison guards
The lowered eyes kept down for yards;
...

In the sunlight,
An empty bench
Before your house
A ghostly sense;
...

Daffodils bob on the hill,
The wind maintains its’ winter chill,
It turns their yellow heads to brown
And bends them early to the ground;
...

The paintings on the wall
Were witness to it all:
Two lovers
So enthralled
...

I grip the handles of the oars
And gently pull us away from shore
Into the center of the stream,
I dip the oars hard and clean;
...

What's all this buzzing in the breeze,
These noisy birds, these humming fleas?
The bursting branches of the woods,
These calling loons, misunderstood;
...

He has Robert Redford's boyish locks
His silver eyes are such a shock
Such good teeth, his smile is warm,
A pleasing well proportioned form;
...

The single soul is not complete;
Its counterpart it must meet
For life to be truly sweet;
Alone we live as in defeat.
...

Grim of eye,
Sharp of tooth,
Dead he lies,
Eternal youth.
...