Robert K. Johnson
Bio Note: My poems are spins on our everyday world, which has always gripped me much more than science-fiction worlds. A now retired English Professor, I taught for many years at Suffolk University in Boston. I also for several years was Poetry Editor for Ibbetson Street magazine. I have had several collections of poems published.
You are not in the kitchen making scrambled eggs for our breakfast. Or out in the patio where small birds wait for food. You don't burst back at dusk rattling off the latest news. Yet I manage, though just barely. But at night, I sit in a chair trying to read a book —and blunder—look up and find you are not in another chair, not in the next room or upstairs or anywhere in our home's enormous silence. And I—can't manage,not even barely.
Originally published in Sarasvati
You Want Meaning?
The meaning of a wave's splurge of surf over sand is time; of a crinkled leaf breeze-shaken into falling is time; of a red swarm of ants eating a park's crust of bread is time; of a man who discovers midway through a novel he's reading that he read it years ago is time; of a grey-haired woman who tries to set the table despite her trembling hands is time is time is time.
©2022 Robert K. Johnson
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