William Marr Poems

April arrived
with a message on my desk
'Call Mr. Lyon—
Urgent! ! ! '
...

Roaming somewhere in the universe
a clang from an anvil
or a hollow resonance from the woods
is yet to reach me
...

Many would take it
as the midway station to heaven
nineteen hundred miles up
can heaven be far away?
...

Standing on top of a skyscraper
one can no doubt pick the stars with ease
yet from here it seems more likely
that the stars descend from the sky themselves
...

Even the shadows
are dried to the bone
their whiskers sparse and brown
...

Now that she is middle-aged, my wife
likes to stand before the window
and comb her hair
...

Retirement

At last
he can call
...

the sky has become dizzy
holding its breath
watching
...

with wings
anywhere can be home

yet all these starving refugees can do
...

on a city bus
this black lady
opens her fresh and bright eyes
brighter than the white skins
...