For My Father
by Steve Gaines
captured in the bronze of time
my father’s memory shines
hangs prominently on the granite wall
of my own mortality.
Page 8 of 8
Cast in July
by Steve Gaines
once more July!
and the oven of my birth
forty-seven years ago
repeated
the ghost of every Summer in between
suspended on the walls of my mind
inside my head
a cast off clutter of soft memories
Songs of My Sorrows
by Steve Gaines
I am chased through time
by the failures and promises of my past
I do not regret so much
as I wonder about them
to be satisfied with the results of my life
is not a matter of final judgment
results can be counted only once I stop moving…
or breathing
death…
of whatever sort…
is the result of having lived…
in whatever life
so to think about “mending my ways”
or simply learning from the errors of the past
are nonsequiturs
errors can become successes
after time rubs them smooth
Lament
by Steve Gaines
yet another lament
in me
hidden behind a soft spreading waistline
lies an aging man alone
he is limping quietly along
such a well-worn path
in his creaks and cracks
he is the only one ever
to suddenly come smack up against middle age
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