john grey





You will come to me  

with troubles

rooted in the past.

You will pick a moment

when these words have

most meaning

and then you will say them

slowly, softly,

like picking something

from a thorny thicket.

Even as it storms.

Even as driftwood

slams onto the shore.

Even as the oceans

mock you with the fury,

like your one infinitesimal death

means anything to

vast, violent life.

You donít look for crumbs

from this table of sand.

You donít care

that waves crash down on rocks

as if to take a million lives

with them.

You will pick up a shell,

place it against your ear,

to hear voices

no matter how cold, how clammy.

You will say

once we dug for shells like this

and the wind slashed,

and the salt cut,

but we grabbed so much bounty

from the sea.


John Grey is an Australian born poet and US resident since late seventies. He works as a financial systems analyst. He has been recently published in Poem, Kestrel and Writerís Bloc with work upcoming in Caveat Lector, Prism International and the Cider Press Review.


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