The Poems of David Garlick
I hear the sound of wind in trees. Leaves rattle and talk to the night. Soon they will fall, harvest of gold. Rain on the roof, what does it say? Drum beats in a forest, words for me? A flurry of tears, voice in the dark. Soon snow will whisper soft sounds. […]
I’m really rather ravishing in my many patterned skin. I like to lie on sunny rocks to let the heat soak in. But just like you I am afraid when I don’t understand; why people tease me with a stick, or grab me with a hand. So though I’d rather slip away, though small, […]
Waiting, waiting, waiting alone on the bench of life. The game races around me as I sit there unnoticed, caught on the vortex edge, waiting to be sucked down into a drain of grief. She has been gone hours, much longer than before. What is taking so long? Every one is busy and […]
Peddlers pecked persistently, among the lizard people. Periodically persistence pays off in, a plethora of pesos! Porque no? David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, February, 1998