3 Poems
By Christian Ward. Published on June 13, 2023.
Roll 6 to pass, 2 to stay in limbo
Her infinite scroll consisted mostly of selfies:
crow-black hair, ocean-swept fringe.
Night-rimmed eyes. Poses away from the camera.
Occasional quirkiness: a crab disguised as a drum.
A dinosaur eye in the bark of an ancient sequoia.
Daffodils motoring in the wind. Japanese maple leaves
setting the ground alight. A sunset lit up like a scene
from an apocalypse. Occasional Americana:
old Corvettes as sleek as a man’s pomade quiff,
‘50s Coca-Cola memorabilia, a penitent Elvis
in a graveyard. Shots of an old chocolate labrador,
mostly acting derpy, filled the spaces
when there was more time than purpose.
The dog has probably been lost, like so much,
to the memories. She may sit on the back porch
and wait for his spirit to return as a firefly,
a lightning bug or a cricket eking out one final song —
a waypoint to guide lost souls neither here nor there.
Shoe, Gum
The prime suspect
plucked two stars
out of his eye sockets,
a black hole from the back
of his mouth, and a nebula
from somewhere unmentionable.
His tongue was studded
with stars in various states
of decay, making him unable
to give a statement. Judgement
rested on a cat, a feather
and the cloud chamber of a Magic 8 Ball.
Spring
Coffins of crows
make trees grieve
with blossoms.
The sweet snow
compacts the diminutive
deities, buries winter's
mealy-mouthed prayers,
and rebuilds the land's skeleton.
Out of respect, our toes bend
downwards with every step.
Christian Ward is a UK-based writer who has recently appeared in The Dewdrop, Dodging the Rain, Blue Unicorn, The Seventh Quarry, Bluepepper, Tipton Poetry Journal, The Amazine and Rye Whiskey Review.
