After the Deluge

The world is on hold.
The axis has been tilted. Day is
slightly less, a blink, a yawn, then gone.

Events go racing by
with the debris of the lost.
That which we hold onto is slipping away.

We grasp at each other
never sure that our own shore
will ever be secure.

It is all part of piecemeal life,
unscripted ’til eternity devours us,
places us just so, amongst the curios.

Here the eternally unequal
continue to hold sway.
Solace comes in knowing

all things pass and grass grows best
with the drying flowers in the marbled hills
of the eternally equal.

Published by William Cowan

I'm from the East Coast, have lived in SoCal and now Northern California for some years. I've been writing quite awhile, published in 1992 in a literary quarterly: "Suspicious Humanist," vol. 2, #2, (20 pages.) Best job: fm on air personality on a now defunct station, "Evening Eclectic" music show, and a weekly poetry reading show. I played jazz and free/improv I enjoyed. Read Wallace Stevens, John Ashbery, Kenneth Koch, etc. and commented on the poems. I have read once at a local coffee house. Love the Bay Area, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I am going to appear in an east coast anthology of best new poets of 2010 by the end of the year, published in Pennsylvania. I'm reading once a month at a brewpub in Marin with a group of fellow poets. We read to each other our work, and personal favorite poems of authors we enjoy. It is a pleasure to share with a community of fellow enthusiasts.

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  1. Kevin J

1 Comment

  1. “grass grows best with the drying flowers in the marbled hills.” beautiful and haunting. really nice work

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