Joanna M. Weston- Three Poems

A JOURNEY OF HABIT

she lives at the end
of the number 9 bus
line where the tracks
curve round the bay
through the jail
yard past the cemetery

there her husband lives
under daisy    dandelion
and a broken urn

she gets off the bus
goes down the rutted path
sits with him in the shadow
of an ancient yew
and mutters through broken
teeth of a dead child
familiar songs and old wars


JUDGEMENT

a sad grey man shackled to a cop
at the Mexico city airport
is this a jail transfer? 
is he being extradited
from home to away?

no place here for family to visit
if he has wife   children   parents
to say good-bye or did
that happen in prison?

here    just a walk   handcuffed
through the public concourse  

eyes slant toward him in case he runs
wanting to see guilt   finding
shadows at his temples
strain-puckered lips

stocky build moves weightily
in old shirt  sagging track pants
to the plane where no one
can leave


ON THE NOSE

I take the bus
to the race-track
watch the tote
compute the odds
lay a bet
on the fourth favourite
win or place
find a spot
in the stands

breath comes
fast  blood pressure
mounts as the horses
pound round the
last bend into
the straight
to the wire
and my horse  
streams past
in second place
nothing like
a good bet


 
JOANNA M. WESTON: Married; has one cat, multiple spiders, raccoons, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle-reader, ‘Frame and The McGuire', published by Tradewind Books 2015; and poetry, ‘A Bedroom of Searchlights’, published by Inanna Publications, May 2016.
Her eBooks found at her blog:  http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/