Soft voices. Gentle expression.
Grief fastened to each whisper,
ever the sentiment.
This is not the first time.
Sympathy flows, reservoir of
emotion. Kindness embraced.
Soothing words
the placebo effect, for nothing
replaces what you know.
Nothing exists now
to compare it to.
This is not the last time.
Ever the thought, ever
the imperative. Before, of course,
we had the time.
© 2018 j.g. lewis
dead pencils
still leave a mark
salvaged from the litter bin
gave most of their everything
from within
now surrounded
by cigarette butts
salad oil tuna tins phone
messages hydro bills coffee
grinds orange peel
rotting spinach or kale
broken
shoelaces leftover pain
a sad refrain
still saving a few scant lines
of sentiment
for a man
and a night
and a poem
for a shadow
© 2016 j.g. lewis
April is Poetry Month
eyes chase sound
intonation
chamber orchestra
four or five violins
resonance
i settled only
on you
black gown
bare shoulders
I watched with my ears
only you
eyes intent on the score
modulation
my imagination
later
waking up
the sound of
only
your violin
morning traffic
scent of rain
and
coffee
© 2014 j.g. lewis
April is Poetry Month
