The Poems of David Garlick
Oak trees screened the wind, framing the sight of boisterous waves – that reached across the stormy strait, leading troubled eyes to distant crags. In bands of gray the view was born, from silver to the darkest hue and reaching to a distant peak the rising crests, a flight of stairs, to carry one […]
“It hardly ever rains here, you know.” The fields looked green to me, snow glistened on mountain slopes, puddles glinted on gravel roads. Herefords, cubed brown, white blazes, coats steaming, large dark eyes, liquid but without curiosity. Jaws moved stoically. The river mutters against a snag. Chatters over a pebbled bar. Tree fingers drag […]
A poem is an escape. It comes to a mind. It is not commanded there. It is a glimpse. It is a thought. It is a burning urge. It is a waif of an idea. The beauty is in the ability to fly in the mind, before pen, before substance. Just a precious idea, […]
How friable the years in the mill of life, time, a lost dimension, in memories – that we hold precious in our minds. Thoughts and scenes that play forever but vanish in a flash, precious snow flake held for an instant on your hand. Baby, child, youth or wo/man, play in an instant, then vanish […]