RSS Feeds

Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Time Outside

There is a forest there
where the road is,
a marsh in that subdivision.
The electric tower
stands on a slope
where a boy and girl
loved among the willows.
The last panther screams
in my garden,
not understanding his broken heart,
and Indians roast a deer
on the golf course.

I watch the face of an angel
pack my groceries,
showing his grandmother
colored stones with his wrinkled hands.
I see a boat race
where a power plant drowned
a lake.
Last night when I went to sleep,
my dead family lined up in a row,
to make it easier to kiss them,
and gave me kisses
to put under my pillow,
to have when I need them.

Leave a Reply