Max Catterwell Poems

When tales of woe come tripping by
And foes called friends decide to lie
Amid this sound I stand aside
And wonder why I have not cried
...

The lost willows and osiers, were once
A shady home for dragonflies.
Now, the emptiness is palpable.
As it always does, time has passed,
...

I came when the sun was low in the sky
I nestled among the dry bracken and moss
I waited till the full moon rose in the East
I floated up as smoke from a fire
...

Did that just happen?
Was I mackerel smoked and dusty?
I feel that the crusted, gnarled, and road eaten Shoes that cramp upon my feet are enraged and
dissident.
...