The Poems of David Garlick
We colickty-clack past shabby houses, clinging together in rows; cringing as trains rattle past. Tin tubs hang on walls. Grimy urchins playing games are sheltered from the sun by the green gasometers gray shadow. A cloud of dust and smuts speckles off white washing. Pale faces peer and disappear, as light glances off windows. A […]
If you must be critical, be critical of yourself. If you must be judgmental, be judgmental in the time frame. If you must feel slighted, check your point of view. If must feel abandoned, think of a slave ship. If you must feel alone, go to a mountain top. If […]
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 […]
If there’s an age I’d like to be, I think I’d chose to stay forty. Old enough to know to say no. Young enough, still plenty of go. Time would be mine to do great things. Young enough to still have dreams. Slay a dragon, sail a sea and still a chance to just […]