A simple photograph
haunts me now
of some forgotten
man it whispers
here I am
like a cricket
he is calling
come find me
like a squeak
I look everywhere
and under everything
I try closets
pushing away coats
and beneath stairs
no one’s there
does he exist
certain he does
dropping into chair
I trace fingers
across the photograph
my fingers remember
that which my
mind now cannot
Category: Photographs
*Sigh
And just like that
It happened the hope
That had been buried
Deep in the ground
Erupted in yellows reds
Blues and pure whites
Like a cascade of
Spring flowers all yawning
Saying here I am
As promised after winters
Heavy blanket of loneliness
But will anyone notice
Oh hey hi there
Stop that it tickles
And then snap pluck
And off I go
Once again someone’s bouquet
*sigh
InvisibleDrum
And with each season
Comes it’s own surprises
Awake aware abandon acquiesce
Bud blossom befall bedtime
Curious crave collapse close
Dawn desire descend die
On through the alphabet
No matter the season
Whether it be love
Or life or time
The seasons always march
To an invisible drum
Heard by no one
Yet felt by all
TakingNotice
As I have gotten older
I’ve become more aware
Of the little things
Having been bombarded by
The grand things of
Life I have sought
Refuge in the quiet
Things raindrops on eaves
The scratching of fall
Leaves and ant hills
That seem to erupt
Overnight through sidewalk cracks
The slower things like
Inch by delicate inch
Of freshly fallen snow
That crawls against windows
And plump caterpillars that
Wind and weave munching
Polka dots in green
On their way to
Emerging butterfly and oh
Yes love as called
Accepting it rather than
Seeking it there’s comfort
In the little slow
Things that simply show
Up for no other
Reason than being themselves
And I taking notice
Mirror (for Egon)
I think that
Everything seen in
A mirror dislikes
It’s own reflection
But when one
Sees two things
Not being one
Of those one
Sees far more
Of that one
Than that one
Will ever ever
See of itself
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 