Niagara River

Solitude forgot its wallet

Not bothering with conversation, solitude sees if its diaries float


Each letter of solitude was offered a role in a comic book movie

Solitude of a few shirts, and feet covered in the leather of old shoes

Solitude of waste basket prose… the emptiness of a flame


The noise sweeps the heart

November astronauts are solitude


The universe is a tee shirt looking for a ride home, solitude of a 
    bicycle 

And lonesome like a cartoon coyote

But what of the falling leaves?

It’s impossible to count them all. All the leaves. But what if 
    counting had an out of body experience? Took LSD, and 
    began licking its Zen palms?  

In conclusion
Almost night now 
The hurry of pillows and the dot that is the moon

The gulls are
Mugs restaurant-white
Dropped along the shores of one of the Great Lakes
Across the river from Canada


13 thoughts on “Niagara River

      1. You are welcome Bob. I am very interested in the sound of poetry and whether it supports the sense. I read it all aloud, much to the annoyance of those that share my abode (except the dog). I don’t want to be too effusive, but that vowel, man oh man, a masterstroke.

        D

        Liked by 1 person

      2. OK- just read it again, the sonics throughout. Shit man! Look at the first line, the hard stop at “wallet” forces a long pause, a point of reflection. what could this mean. You do this everywhere in this piece, even in the long slur at “tee shirt”. In all seriousness this piece stands as an example of the power of free verse.

        D

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s