Gary Witt Poems

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A Most Delicious Strawberry

You have your game-face on again;
The don’t-mess-with-me face that comes
With its own combative attitude.
Not pleased with being pleased,

An Agnostic's Prayer

He said I confess that I doubt.
I want the truth and have no desire
To whisper prayerfully into a hole.
So, neither believing nor disbelieving,

Ethos, Logos, Pathos

Bricks heaped upon lumber,
Laid upon lungs to extricate
Evil from thoughts perceived
To have turned from God.

A Poem For His Father

He’d grown quite tired by then, but still he tried
To appease or even please that ghost whose voice
Pursued him, critical of every move—
Pursued him easily, relentlessly;

Alone At Night

I would pray then at my bedside,
Fingers tightly intertwined,
Eyes straining to close around themselves,
Thoughts thrown with all my strength—

Exhibition Dancing Ii (The Tango)

She coaxed him into lessons
With a tug on his sleeve
And a kiss that tasted of
Dark bitter chocolate—

March 28, 1941

Whom did you leave behind, Virginia,
When the voices summoned you
Into the river and you strode down,
Stout stones filling the pockets of your overcoat?

Between Both And Neither

Stubbornly floundering
Between both and neither,
I am young for I still have heroes
Who have not been shamed,

My Life, My Worthless Life

If innocence and wonder together
Are the true foundation of wisdom
(And they are, you know they are)
Then innocence has not been lost

The Fine Print

When she reached on tip-toe
To pull down the hazelnut
From above the La Marzocco,
Her shirt would ride up to reveal

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