Shawn McAllister Poems

she’s just a park
a beautiful park to visit
she smells of freshness
glides across the day
...

Opening night, butterflies are floating
the crowd anticipating, and backstage waiting

Tell me, Saint Genesius,
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mountainous rock buried in snow, frozen
water catching the flow of
summer dreams too young to die, leaving
the endings dissatisfied; chirping
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Once Hemingway
sat across this bay
and touched the endless sea
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My old man used to pull mama aside
when we kids came home from school
he’d shake his head in that beaten ole easy chair
sayin’ “hello, hon! ”
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Spring is the birth of every year, playing
enthusiastically with nature, newborn
thrills of life’s abundance, anticipating
more to come, to share
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how far away must I go
to transcend the biting snow
to see a moonbeam on the sea
as more than memory
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mama is left alone among the piles
abandoned by the Rio Grande
distant dreams of Errol Flynn and Savannah
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love trees are hard to grow
when they do
they’re vulnerable
high winds and stormy rains
...

breakwaters
wash away
memories
like footprints
...