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Denis M. Garrison
gripping your wrist
deafened by falling water
I see only
your frightened eyes
how long ... how long
fund-raising dinner
slides of starving children
flash quickly by-
the tinkle of crystal
and silver almost stops
for mercy
the caught carp
cries out "brother!"
a joyful splash
a fleeting gleam
unshed tears
I'm told they're high
in calcium . . .
enough of them, your heart
can turn to stone
the brief cloud of snow
as an axe strikes this oak
a staggering blow
after his diagnosis
I can't hear the doctor's voice
yet chilled to the bone
I go out for morning chores
a breeze rises with the sun-
the old windmill
screeches into motion
moving house-
there, under my desk,
your lost photo
smiling in sweet ignorance
of cruel days ahead
--First published in Nisqually Delta
Review, Winter/Spring 2006.
floating
valley winds-
the faint voices
of children at play come
and go
--[cinqku #34] was published on Garrison's
Haiku & Tanka Unchained blog, Sept. 11, 2005.
Carpet
of blown petals
covers the forest path.
We two walk on slain beauty. The
rain falls.
--First published in May Dazed, by CinquainPoets (Lulu
Press. 2005).
Shine on,
my young May moon!
Spread your liquid silver
across a bleeding world. No one
blames you.
Denis M. Garrison lives in northern Maryland. His
poetry is published in Ribbons, Lynx, Poetry Scotland,
Nightingale, Verse Libre Quarterly, Stirring, World
Haiku Review, Nisqually Delta Review, Short Stuff,
Full Moon, and others. Garrison's published books
include Eight Shades of Blue and The Brink at Logan
Pond; he's anthologized in May Dazed and Poets Gone
Wild. He is the Editor of Haiku Harvest and a new
webzine publication 3x5 Review, specializing in
short form poetry.
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