The Poems of David Garlick
You know, it doesn’t hurt much when you are dead. But then you do a lot of lying still. You know, you don’t fear much when you are dead. But perhaps there is no adventure left to thrill. You know, you do not hunger much when you are dead. But then you do not need […]
As Spring’s soft fingers caress my furrowed face. My thoughts warm to birds and bees, forgetting snow and ice. Soon seeds will stir, within my soil, bulb spears will greenly show. Then I will bask in mellow winds and smiling watch them grow. David Garlick, Victoria, May, 1991
He stood on a rocky point, against a background of trees. His boat quietly reflecting its image on the still water, gray green in the early evening light. Mountains rose steeply from the silent shore, the sea, a thousand feet deep, waited. He sailed single-handed and loved this place. Quiet flooded over him, as […]
Ring bells ring. Call the sun to greet this happy morning. Breezes in budding trees echo notes; thought lost to our ears. Thanks for your stirring sounds, Phoenix of furnace and mold; now reborn to greet two thousand years of love. People, along paths, like notes on a staff, bob and gather in accord. We […]