Martin TURNER Poems

Night comes and the clenching of teeth.
...

I am Supergirl. I throw back my cape
so that you may view the bathing suit within.
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It’s all very well for you,
straight as a canoe or arrow,
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This daughterless night is deepening.
The tinkle of laughter awaits
and unlistened-to interruptions
for someone who is always thinking.
...

From time to time the dead come
for their allotted meeting like prisoners,
jostling, and sit on the bench to wait.
The hands of the carver
...

1.

No beginning, this, but an end.
For the calendar the birds gather, harrow or net space,
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1. Pathetic fallacy Tanka


Late October. A feast of sun.
...

In memoriam Tom Ravenette

In old age I comfort myself
with bits and pieces of food
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Bushels of light from the electric maples
float in the underpass.
Night enters the cemetery like a spade.
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Here comes the moment of the shimmering hour
When praise like incense trembles from each leaf.
The evening air is redolent with grief
And waltzes gush with melancholic power.
...