Doug Potter

Doug Potter Jan 2017

Atop a fresh
fall of snow

a blood red
cardinal

awaits
spring.

Doug Potter Jan 2017

I search for the best lay of the land
between hillsides & beyond
concrete

where gravel roads wander
toward birdsong and gut
laughter with

oak fence posts
and sleep filled
nights.

Doug Potter Jan 2017

Abandoned brick factory

There are fingerprints burned
into these kilns, leather hands

held waists of women
with wide hips, who gave

birth to gaunt-faced children;
now, the bricks lay across

America’s streets,
forgotten.

Doug Potter Jan 2017

His passing

Sixty years she awoke
fetched cups and cream,

sounds of gentle awakenings,
like sparrows hopping across

window sills; oh, so, still
and quiet the home became.

Doug Potter Jan 2017

Domestic violence

In every American state
county and town

women walk barefoot
on broken glass

looking for an
open door.

Doug Potter Jan 2017

for Boxer

The champion boxer
turned alcoholic

wandered the town's
railroad tracks until death.

After the funeral
his wife spent

her days thumbling
through newspaper

newspaper clippings
awaiting his resurrection.

return.

Doug Potter Dec 2016

Cerebral Palsy: There is no ending

She walked the school’s halls
thirteen years, few students

talked to her because she drooled,
walked like a puppet, and had

greasy hair; there are poems
I can not finish.