Bert Bell Poems

they
found
his little
body
...

as frail as a wishbone, she
sits at the table by the window,
sipping her sherry in a haze
...

The promise of summer was everywhere
this morning, even in the rivers that
fell out of the sky during the night
...

.

To the angry sea that tosses freighters
round like bits of fluff, the ruddy-skinned
...

I met her at Strawberry Fields
one day on my lunch
break.
She was sitting on a bench
...

Dawn has just
broken and
I’m sitting reading
the early morning
...

October brings both beauty and dread;
And when it first arrives, it feels
Like something has already been lost.
Before all its radiant spectra have fluttered free
...

This happens to us all and we all learn far too late
that the years have streaked past like wind through city streets
stirring up in its wake whirlwinds of debris and dust
that burn the eyes and fill the pores with dirt
...

outside my bedroom
window
on a sheet of ebony,
the moon sits,
...

A fog settled over the park last night,
so thick, it transformed the moon
into a ghost high above the trees,
and it was quiet, with only the muffled
...