J.K. Durick- Three Poems

      Anticipation

 

We apprehend the beginning

and the end before they arrive.

Before they arrive we begin to

Survive the dull meeting,

the stern rebuke, the doctor’s

ominous words.

 

We greet them all -- the ominous,

or stern, or dull coming

up the street toward us,

waving, know them well.

 

We crave the presence of

the future, the answer before

the question, their applause in

advance of our dance.

 

We shake the present

hold it up to the light

Study it, speculate, surmise,

read our tea leaves, and realize.

                        Death

 

I’m tired of Death and all his dying
and those black clothes
he’ll wear everywhere he goes.

That old grim Reaper, the grim Weeper
coming up the walk, walking up,
waking up the dread,
ringing the bell, bringing the dead –
the call in the middle of night,
the fright it brings, it rings,
and he’s there on the stair waiting
anticipating my one last play
my hope to delay
the casual necessity of him and
his dim ironic grin.

I’m tired of Death and all this dying,
but while I bemoan it, I know
I can’t postpone it.

Death arrives with a swagger
that would stagger the best of us –
and, of course, he’ll be coming
for the rest of us.

       Distances

 

Hints of beyond

As far as the eye can see

Even further…

 

I’ve been on mountaintops

On clear days

 

I’ve stood on decks

As the shore faded

 

Watched out car back windows

Going away

 

I have watched the horizon

From airplanes

 

I’ve walked the beach

Looking outward

 

Called out and

Waited for an echo

 

Stood in doorways

At windows

In terminals

In stations

By the sides of too many roads

 

I have saved up

Bought tickets

Planned and planned

Made calls

Sent letters and emails

 

I have longed for

And waited

Asked for help

And heard nothing

 

 

 

J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Decades Review, Northern New England Review, Third Wednesday, and Up the River.