Tim Gavin Poems

It is the sound of the log splitting
and its echo
which marks my passage
into manhood. My father stands
...

Venus’s been hovering west of the moon,
following Earth’s satellite like a dog
looking for a bone. Each night, I walk
through Bryn Mawr, climbing each steep hill
...

Strike a match and light your sky
And stars will swirl like sparklers
Cart wheeling towards a black hole
...

On a pier right above the Delaware & adjacent to a factory,
a man takes a lunch break,
legs kicking absent-mindedly as he ponders
the number of holes he needs to drill through
...

And I sit here, hearing a muse snicker,
Informing me that I’ll never compose
A poem worth the time wasted on it.
I pace the floorboards and listen
...

Here he was the summer of '29,
driving a coal truck from upstate down route
611 towards Philly. He bought
cosmos at a road side stand
...

I

daffodils tinged brown arched over
hunch backed broken
...

“Jesus was led up by the spirit
into the wilderness to be tempted.”
Matthew 4: 1
...

from your past
like a lost sock
beneath your bed
& don't duck behind clouds
...

The ball blazes red on the horizon
& dissipates like napalm over the river
it could bring down the skyline
of Philly if it weren't for the birds
...