Kevin Cowdall Poems

I mark the erratic progress
of a fluttering butterfly;
dipping and bobbing,
a dash of creamy-white
...

A solitary chaffinch
declared dominion over our garden
and set its throne amid the
bare branches of a winter-brooding tree.
...

Life is peopled with
one-dimensional characters
slightly out of synch:
while death is merely
...

Like a white lace
whatnot
slowly turning grey -
an insubstantial
...

I can think
of nothing so forlorn
as a graveyard
in the midst of winter:
...

En vieillisant on devient plus fou et plus sage
As we get old we become at the same time more foolish and wiser) .

François, Duc De La Rochefoucauld - Réflexions.
...

I entered a room
and saw a girl
sitting on a chair.
She looked at me
...

There is something haunted
about an abandoned schoolyard.

Distant shouts and cries
...

Fingering with studied expertise
the various knick-knacks and curios
of someone else's unwanted memories
I find a tiny elephant carved in ivory.
...

From time to time
on such still, calm days
a whisper of breeze
stirs the water like an arpeggio.
...