Last updated:
June 1, 2020
Lori M. Cameron, editor
Your Cart

Your cart is empty.

Parallel – John Grey

Long walk in summer field…
forget the weariness…
honeysuckle, clover, lilac,
And for quiet reading
in dark brown study,
words assemble, appeal to sense
and emotion and then something else…
they bear me to some place
where I am waiting for me.
And people, even those doing simple things,
peeling an orange with a knife,
looking out a window,
knitting, commenting on the weather…
they’re met by ordinary response
that resonates something deeper,
pragmatism as a shield
for radiant joy.
And then there’s news of death…
it plunders the surfaces,
coerces> the every day feelings,
the movements, the expressions,
but the spiritual core remains unconvinced
by all this ragged sorrow.
I’m living a double life,/p>
the quixotic and the patient,
the body and belief.
Long walk in summer field…
muscles tired, earth hard,
but isn’t that a bluebird soaring,
burnished orange, cobalt wing.
I’m more grounded by the moment,
more flying by the day.


Copyright 1997 - 2020 The Penwood Review - Disclaimer - Sitemap