As dusk unleashes
the ebony bones of night,
sleek chimney swifts
slide home to roost,
chittering gusts of
black confetti, they flutter,
falling, into the sleeping
stacks of the red
brick mill, that
fed our town.
Truck 2014 (published in graphical format)
redbuds awaken early
from the stretched night of winter,
blossoms sliding upward,
through gray sheets of sleeping bark,
radiant,
like newly-forged suns,
they speed the breath
of the most stubborn trunks…
Annoyed with February,
I churlishly exited
into a whirlpool
of confectioner’s sugar.
Physics is wrong,
I found two alike.
FEH 20, 1996
Sand gnats
go splat,
against my arm,
against my hat.
You are too fat,
oh cunning gnat,
with blood from this,
and blood from that.
Gary D. Grossman
Feh 21 1996…
Your silhouette indents my thigh,
an artist’s brush upon my slacks,
slides back and forth, and up and down
as more of lunch is nuzzled clean
upon my pants.
Now…
Just showered
water sparkles upon
the creamy canvas
of your skin.
You lean over the bed,
correcting the sheet.
My gaze traces
the contours of your hips,
ripe with promise.
…
Previously I have posted recently published poems but I am going to delve into some old published poems and republish them here. These are mostly short works, many humorous. Ah…
My fictional memoir, My Life in Fish: One Scientists Journey is just out. Details here http://www.garygrossman.net/my-life-in-fish-one-scientists-journey/ (sorry for my confusing web site which is undergoing a metamorphosis.)
Ecology prof (emeritus), writer and poet, uke player, sculptor, runner, fly fisher, reader, gardener, all on www.garygrossman.net
