Poem Category: Seven lines

Night.

just now

the creaking roof,

the windowed rain, the winds

around the fire, our books

to pass the hours, the sound of her

first yawn

Daughter.

late mail

from distant lands,

the perfumed page, her joy

inside the words, the towns

along the way, the need to see

still more

Winters.

fogs have

their secret place,

the peeling shed, the rose

between the thorns, the shade

beside the path, the space that fills

old cars

Town.

the birds

that peck the earth,

the vacant street, the girl

who grooms her horse, the sun

on glints of cars, the scent of winds

passed here

Zoo.

past bars

apes grin, cuddle,

their beg for nuts, the groom

for biting fleas, the chase

around the mates, the milk for one

new born

Winter.

some men

must test the real,

the naked monk, the snow

feeding the stream, the Zen

sitting in it, the hour to watch

his pain

Beyond.

death brings

the last long sleep,

the gentle pull, the breath

that leaves the room, the peace

the loss desires, the way to be

soon whole

Horizons.

fly high

you migrant geese,

the season‘s change, the call

to father-lands, the stars

that guide the minds, the winds have brought

you far

Tourists.

the sounds

an island makes,

the swishing palms, the gulls

in fights for food, the rush

of curling waves, the laughs of two

out deep

Eagle.

dull minds

these pigeon things,

just pecking seeds, the coos

inside the nests, the heads

they bob to walk, I king of skies

eat birds