Poems
by JD DeHart

 

A Day of Cancellations

 

False starts, a knee jumping

with nowhere to go.  I had

a feeling this would happen.

 

No thank you, the kind message.

Not today, I’m afraid.  A terrible

case of whooping cough.

 

A delayed ticket, a stalled set

if fitted feet, a hand raised.

Try another door, all full here.

 

 

 

 

I Write Words

 

some small, some

big enough to seem

grand.  I look again,

not so much.

 

The advice goes to take

a set time each day.

Line up your words like

school children.

 

Lead them to lunch

in the page.  Let them

play for the afternoon.

 

Or at midnight.

 

See what games they

can teach you as you let

them scoot off your

keyboard, diving in.

 

 

 

 

You Never Can Tell

 

and that’s probably true.

Though goodness knows

prognosticators are busy.

The electors are churning.

 

I want to predict the universe,

make a perfect blueprint.

On Tuesday at noon, I will...

and so forth.

 

Problem is, who can see beyond

their feet? Who can manage

the wordless void that is two

days from now?

 

One hour from now?  One

second?  The improviser takes

over, calmly as can be.

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