Poems and Poetry

Triad | A Poem by Danny Faragher

ripe fruit

poems appear in my mind
like ripe fruit on a tree
near, but out of reach
ah, to muster the gumption
to climb the fence
and traipse through thicket
to pick them

wet words

sometimes my mind is a desert landscape
and thoughts are like bleached bones in the sand
then suddenly the words seem to fall like rain
from the sky – a trickle, then a downpour and I’m
frantically throwing out buckets to catch them,
knowing the dry spell may soon return

ball point

a poem may be like
the stubborn ball point pen that
refuses to leave a mark
I must scratch around in circles
before the ink will flow
don’t think – just write

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