James H. Duncan

One last thing to do


snow muffles our lives so easily
in this place, like hands strangling a caged bird
as white feathers drift to earth with
little remorse or litany

somewhere in the other rooms of this
riverside trestle she sits writing
a list on the back of an envelope we
received from the hospital
asking us to pay our ER bill, which
we won't, and I don't think I'll
ever see that list again either

when the final wisp of her
car's exhaust curled into filaments
of tinge, I let the curtain fall and block out
the dimming visage of January's silent
snowfall, and tick tick tick went
the kitchen clock all the way to 5 p.m.

snow at midnight muffles my life so easily
in this place, like a silencer slipping into
the barrel of a gun as frozen
red snowflakes drift to earth with
little remorse or litany




death & distance


death and distance are such
vital cogs these days

with a cold command
the dawn rises on sleepless
aimless raw red eyes

fingers stop the hands of the watch
water runs dry from the well
sulfur fumes coil from lit matches

death and distance, howl and hymns
across the prairie the gears
spin the sun away, the moon above,
the hatchet down, the echo out

and the wind carries black butterflies
of tinder and skin beyond the fence posts
such vital cogs these days,
such vital days unending


A tramp, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer, always hopeful of romance and adventure. James H Duncan is a New York native and is the founder of Hobo Camp Review, an online literary 'zine dedicated to the traveling word. His sixth collection of poetry, Dealing With The Devil In The Middle Of The Road, is now available at Amazon.com and at his blog, http://jameshduncan.blogspot.com.
 

Current Issue:
January 2013

Mandy Jo Angleberger
Natalie Carpentieri
Holly Day
James H. Duncan
Don Kloss
Kirby Light
Raina Masters
Linda Price

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