A virtual chapbook of poems by Mark Justice Hinton.
When I come in from the garage
the dog’s look asks,
“Where is she?”
Gone, I say, she’s gone.
He stands at the door
head tilted, he listens
for you.
I open the door
and he walks around the car
pausing to look up into the
windows on both sides.
“Where is she?”
All night he sits by the window
rising up at any sound
he looks and waits
for your return.
And I am there beside him
sharing his hope
for your return.
Where is she? mjh
6/19/2004
The whispering trees recite rhymes
Written by rain.
Poems rustle, flutter to the gutter,
Clutter up the street.
Ankle-deep in poetry,
I reach for a rake.
12-16-02
Off a train of thought,
signs point up
to higher functions,
down to baser instincts.
A mindpost warns:
synaptic lapse ahead.
Now, I’m treading
a familiar path
in the gray.
All around me
light flashes
the path is slick and wet
soft walls rise
a ditch become a canyon
this place is old
those voices are echoes.
See also:
Wed 04/07/04 at 12:02 pm
my head is buzzing
like a hive
whacked with a stick
I’m flopping in bed
like a fish in a boat
inches from my element mjh
1/20/05
It may be
we’re not born with souls
but receive them slowly
one drop at a time
from our parents,
siblings,
friends & lovers.
Each lending a drop
to our vessels.
And the kindness of
strangers
is like rain.
Thus, we live long enough
that our cups runneth over. mjh
4am 4/6/12
the alpha wolf dreams
she is on her greatest hunt.
the prey is worthy & strong
her twitches and yelps
awaken her pack
they stand around her
recognize the cues
this is a great hunt.
as one, they lay down
and close their eyes
and she is surrounded again
by her pack
moving endlessly towards the kill mjh
8/18/04
As I lie dying
spoon me one more time
before the darkness falls
and all I am
is no more
forever done and gone
a song no longer sung
hold me one last time
before the darkness falls
and I am no longer going
simply gone. mjh
6/19/2007