Gary Witt Poems
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,
You seem incapable of a smile;
Not a cheek-aching, ab-cramping,
But something as simple as a smile.
Can you scowl in the presence
Of a four year old wearing
A Halloween costume
Can you frown under the patient,
Steady, brown-eyed stare of a
Have you forgotten how to savor
The simple strawberry?
The story goes, a man in ...
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;
A spectral helicopter hovering high
Above him, searchlight showering him in white,
As, trapped inside its shifting spot, he ran,
The voice reverberating in his ears.