michael hogan Poems

Hit Title Date Added

In memoriam Francis X. Hogan (1913-1974)

On Sunday mornings in March my father
would take a homemade kite broad as his back

Poem On My 70th Birthday

After a night of rain
eucalyptus hangs heavy and redolent with damp breath.
Ground fog clings to unmown grasses in the park
where the dog bounds like a joyful shadow.

April In Mexico

It is the time of the jacaranda
when streets are violet carpets
and venders call "Hay elotes! " in the early evening.
No reason to think this could not last forever

Ernest Hemingway,1961

When the sun comes early
through eastern windows
and a single horsefly buzzsaws the air
it is then I rise from bed

Newport, The Fifties

I was raised in the decade of the death of the elms
with the sight of Sputnik twinkling in the night sky
where one could walk the last of the driftwood beaches
and see weathered cottages beyond the dunes.

Arizona Moon

The moon fades over Arizona and the morning sun is more dangerous.
Even the rain when it finally falls is no friend to man
or woman either.
Toads cry like lost children when the torrent ceases

The Terrace, St. Tropez

A girl reclining by an open window.
I do not say this way
the only thing one saw that day.
There was a strip of luminous green,

Two Different Things

A coyote paces the enclosure
his eyes looking toward the hills.
His paws had been stung by barbed wire, broken glass
until the pads were cracked and bloodied.

Lovers You Have Known

The one you could not wait for
so you went ahead
as children do in the snow
to make fallen angels.


Where it comes from is anybody's guess
but on a clear afternoon when
the earth is brilliant with its own shining—
Chinese lanterns of red maples