John F. McCullagh Poems

There are loves that are inseparable,
loves that never leave.
Loves that can define us
This much I do believe.
...

The onset was a subtle thing;
a clumsiness, a loss of grace.
She who had been strong and proud
was, suddenly, listless, out of place.
...

Hands trembled but their hearts did not
On that Independence Day.
When they signed the Declaration
Many signed their lives away.
...

In Detroit, the 'motor city'.
The wheels are off the cart.
Auto coverage? unaffordable-
four thousand just to park!
...

“Till death do us part.”
Is a comforting phrase
To all those who repent
their impetuous days.
...

Without the wind, without the rain
The stone of Earth would stone remain.
Did not the breath of Boreas blow
to form the canyons here below?
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When he returned from Vietnam
it was in part, not whole.
Something akin to jungle rot
had seeped into his soul.
...

The prognosis was distressing.
The outlook was the same.
My aging mother could not eat,
we were playing her endgame.
...

He was her only Rose,
and you might think it unkind
for Rose to have left Libby
so close to Valentine’s.
...

The decedent was in perfect health
As all our tox screens show.
No visible wounds,
No blunt force trauma,
...