Two Poems

by John Grey

I SAW SOMETHING

What was it last night –

a blur by the bell tower, not quite a ghost.

Death entrusts itself

to creaks in the floorboards,

to the hush between branches,

to a blue that barely dares to shine.

And memory can’t help itself.

The funeral is folded into the hymnal.

Grief - a lawn box sunk deep.

Yet only wisps make it through.

What good is that to the dead?

They gave their last breath to the world,

said: remember.

And I…I am that world.

HALLOWEEN SKY

The night is a machine –

not of gears but of stars clicking into place.

From its end a woman rises –

broom between her knees, hair stiff as wire.

Guided by phantoms,

she floats between the stars.

And the moon’s face changes as you look:

a young woman, a hag, a clown, a devil,

and then it becomes a young woman again.

The sky is a shrine of firs, each tree a steeple.

Time is the lock on the door.

And the cat - black, curled at my feet –

purrs as I watch the shoulder

of the sky for movement.

BIO: John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, River and South, and The Alembic. Latest books, Bittersweet, Subject Matters, and Between Two Fires are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Rush, White Wall Review, and Flights.