Whatevs | HR Creel
My granddaughter
speaks to me
with phrases like
Whatevs,
a tiny sponge
for vernacular, my
only hope being
that I can still
translate as time
flies by.
poems about change
Socks on at Night | JD DeHart
Gone now are the nights
of warm sock wrapping.
Of dripping pipes.
The last bit of cold (I
believe) has passed,
at least for a while.
Now the time has come
for sunburn, perspiration.
Sprinkler systems.
Shades of green, shattered
blue eggshells,
decorating the outside view.
When You Leave | David Sermersheim
when you leave
I will smile
as you turn
away and go
while these words
sketch the outline
of where you were
Who Is This Man? | Scarlett R. Welty
Who is this man?
I don’t recognize him anymore.
Something is different,
changed from before.
His face, his hands, those beautiful brown eyes,
all the same I remember them well.
But this man, standing before me,
is merely a shell.
She’s changed you so much,
in so little time.
I miss the old you, the happy you,
miss when you were mine.
So this is where I leave you,
in a love I hate to say,
Is as horrible as the one you gave me,
at the end of our days.
On Ticking Wings | G. Louis Heath
Time works its ways. The island in
The river in your hometown erodes.
Jim Crow is no more and Germany
Is one. Liver spots and wrinkles
Colonize your skin. Japanese vets
Apologize for Pearl Harbor. Today
Clock hands release white doves at
Hiroshima flying on ticking wings.
America the Beautiful | Tilla Sonrise
In a land of strangers
We are all neighbors
In love
With hate
The greed of the Mind
Is a hopeless passion
For change