poem
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I used to think waterwas only water. Now I think this ever-morphing molecule,this rain falling today, blown here from the Amazon,or a polar bear’s shaken fur, or Mt. Fuji’s morning mist,is the very soul of the Earth, forever flowing somewherebelow us, above us, within us. Its presence means everything,its absence, nothingness. Everywhere on Earthroots reach Read more
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Isn’t it? What’s happening these daysin Nanking, Auschwitzand Wounded Kneeis as normal as anywhere else. And terrifying…Corn is growingin Gettysburg.Morning traffic flowsin Warsaw. Cafes are opentoday in Nagasaki. Luckily for us, curtainsare drawn around the awful.Beetles, mushroomsand grass are summonedto cover things up. Bells ring as usual in villageswhere children were run downby Visigoths on Read more
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I would say I love youA hundred times a dayBut that old word is too worn outFor all I want to say. I need a word that’s fresh and newLess nibbled on by miceA word that isn’t overusedOr lost its sweet surprise. What I’m feeling isn’t pink,a drugstore Valentine;It’s absolutely rare—unique!Found only in this heart Read more
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isn’t it? I meanthat milkweed seedfloating by onblissful flufflifted by windup and over the roof. The drifting seedseems happy to ignorethe odds against it beingdropped downon open ground where it can poweritself into root, stem,and nourishing leaves, the windblown butterflymust find to keep its kind alive. Read more
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Our little houndloves to nose the ground, sniffing grass and leaveswhere aroma symphonies sing to him. So today,parked at the store his old brown eyes begto leave the car. Each stone, leaf, weedhe meets is new as he pushes hisgray muzzle through savoring the delightsof his much shorter life. We return to the carwhere I Read more
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To those who barely had timeto save your pets beforeabandoning your homes to the flames,please forgive me forenjoying coffee on my patio this morning. To the parents of the boylost in the canyon,I’m truly sorry for frettingabout a pain in my wrist. I apologize to firefightersfor having eyebrows unsinged and to all the wild creatureswho Read more
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Back when the galaxywas youngthey say the wheel of fortunespun, the exploded stardust gatheredinto everything we seeand we (the lucky ones!) landedatop the species tree where we look downon the frogs, the antelopes,the bumblebeesand other clustersof cosmic dustgoing about their business who must feelthe universe is not justa little nuts but cruelto have gifted usthe Read more
20 Poems by Tom Crider 