10 Poems

Fairy wishes and toxic kisses,
We hope and fear and dream.
Life and thought and feeling passes.
Looking back, I see what was.
Ahead? I’ll see that later.
(November 18, 2019)

Quiet Neighborhood
Still water, small lawn, a few trees.
A simple dock for visitors.
House with views on all four sides.
Hazy sky, rippling water.
Time for thoughts and memories.
(November 6, 2019)

Seeking Home
Changing seasons, changing yearnings.
Or perhaps a yearned-for haven,
Glimpsed from a long and winding path.
(October 25, 2019)

Glowing fog, green and auburn lawn.
Standing near a well-marked road.
Shadeless trees, sentinels or guides.
They hint at more beyond my sight.
(October 19, 2019)

I walk the cobbled streets of Doom,
Between between the dunes and downs,
Beneath Dundoom’s dim walls.
The sun has set, the shadows grow,
My footsteps’ echo fades.
An empty town, an empty land,
Apart from me and shades.
(October 10, 2019)

Peering Through Time’s Prism
It is, or was, or will be: the familiar triad of time.
But then there’s the will-be that was.
And the will-be that hasn’t been yet.
Perhaps time’s a diad: done or still doing, will-be or not.
Or a tetrad of done or ongoing, unbegun or repeated.
Perhaps it’s a pentad, a hexad or more.
The past as we see it, the past as it was.
A future we fear, or work toward with hope.
And perhaps it’s more motley, or varied and vast.
If times outside “now” are not future or past.
(September 6, 2019)
(A tip of the hat to Walt Kelley and C. S. Lewis)

I come, he said, from distant shores.
I sing of wind and wave.
We sing, they said, of snail and seed.
Of pond and stream and fen.
You sail the wind, we ride the wave.
Our paths may cross again.
(July 5, 2019)

A seed by any other name
Would grow like weeds.
Or grow like a weed.
Or at least grow.
Ah, well.
Another one for the compost heap of my mind.
(June 6, 2019)

Tomorrow I Will
Tomorrow I will wake up. That’s my plan.
What will happen remains to be seen.
(May 31, 2019)

Needful appearance, societal norms.
Indispensable software, umbrellas and scarves.
Necessities vary with places and times,
From the basics of life to our deep social needs.
(March 2, 2019)

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About Brian H. Gill

I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
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