The Poems of David Garlick
The ugly “clomes” of England, seem to slouch a bit, with horrid little garages, in which a car wont fit, – because its full of all the stuff you love but have no room to hang, to place, or to enjoy the oppressive gathering gloom. They’re built of brick and matching tile, so all […]
To those of you who know me, It will come as no surprise. That I will go sailing In boats of any size. I’ve built them and restored them, with the sweat of my own brow. But the strangest craft I ever sailed Was a little Arab Dhow. I called her Jamelah. Which is […]
Mrs. Ferguson was never late. In fact she could not remember when she had ever been late. She often said to herself. Why cant people be on time? Why be a minute late, when you can be a minute early? Annie was six. Time made no sense to her. Time was a mystery. It […]
The dogs greeted us, Annie staggering with arthritis, Big brown Bob, not bright but a power house of youth, and Thor, a Puck of a dog. Eyes that ask questions, not understanding the answers but he understands sticks. “I will fetch for you for as long as you have the strength to throw. Two […]