Coelacanth They pulled the fish out of the ocean And my father’s death as unexpected long years of my life. Nobody expects the ghost Life with its depths unfathomable, and comprehensible.
A last rumination on the dying fire Old friend from caveman days, we no longer Fire has its Zodiac: The match to the log heart. Bed and sleep and love I will look at your ashes,
Walking my dog in the late October rain, like a wine aroma discerned — acrid to protect me from rain. Alex collects The train whistle howls in the distance cozy and dry. I arrive home and my wife I nap and puzzle through crosswords, read my wife’s hand reaching for mine, the eternal now and the eternal again
Copyright © 2010 Harry Calhoun |
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Harry Calhoun is a widely published poet, article and essay writer. Check out his online chapbook Dogwalking Poems, his trade paperback, I knew Bukowski like you knew a rare leaf, and the recently published The Black Dog and the Road. Not to mention his latest chapbook, Something Real. He’s had recent publications in Chiron Review, Chiaroscuro, Orange Room Review, The Centrifugal Eye, Bird’s Eye reView, Abbey, Monongahela Review and many others. He is the editor of Pig in a Poke magazine. Find out more at http://harrycalhoun.net. |