John Scully Poems

I found yesterday
today,
through unlit corridors,
and saw catastrophies
...

Long ash coats and cherry faces
say nearly, but not quite.
Long grey coats and beady faces
say tomorrow, maybe.
...

Amidst the hills full and lonely
I walked the ragged paths and stumbled stones,
Looking for a kind of longing,
A memory of that one day in June so long ago.
...

On a wild and dreary hill,
the sun still on the horizon,
a running flock of birds
swirled and gathered, home to roost.
...

When I know that evening's fog
will no more haunt and cloister me
I will come and walk with you awhile
knowing that my gloomy face will smile again.
...

When the morning was over
and the sun crumbling noon,
the ants kissed the patio dust
disappearing down cracks of the dead.
...

The muffled-knock of high blown summer,
upon the leaves and grasses August since June,
wrap tightly like bundled flowers,
around the jaundiced seasoned air.
...

Rooks cawed,
over apples sliced and stored,
while nothing else stirred the air.
The day: Had a certain mystery and magic,
...

I thought I heard your morning step
but it was my heart beating
missing steps
as I spoke you name.
...

Western Winds of glory
drive across the waves
are sometimes kind and fair
to boatmen scurrying home
...