David Welch Poems

Sabati was eight years old on the day
that his grandfather told him to sit down,
there was a story that he had to share,
that he was finally old enough now.
...

In a hallowed grandstand,
I do quietly sit,
high above the noise
and ruckus of the pit.
...

A quiet call born of wind,
the rustling needles sound,
a hard chair of stony set,
cooler than dirty ground.
...

A carpet of orange dresses the ground,
trees growing bare as leaves flitter down,
nip in the air tells of stark days to come,
but not now at least, the Fall isn't done.
...

Oh the woman I loved was unfaithful
I found out that hard truth today,
now when I look at her I feel hateful
since she found another for her play.
...

My head lolled as I rode through sun-baked land,
too parched to notice the vistas grand,
Southern Nevada had cursed me with thirst,
a kind that most people will never know.
...

I have an aunt out in Cali,
we used to visit every year,
she had a yoga studio,
and my grandmother used to cheer
...

It seems a day cannot go by
without some fit of pique
over a person who spoke out,
who used his right to speak
...

She was born as Holly Clarkson
in the year 1993,
and for most of her early days
she lived life uneventfully.
...

The cowboy poet went out
for a breath of fresh air.
Then a shot rang out,
coming out of nowhere.
...