Poems by John Grey

Poems by John Grey
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.
Fog shrouds the farm.
Horses in the far field
are like a mirage –
some snow,
grizzled gray trees,
the frozen snort
of a stallion –
it doesn’t take much to blur.
Jane is on her way
to the chicken coop.
A flake
lands on her cheek,
a cold, damp, wake-up.
The world is in-between.
The wind is strangely warm.
The coop wire chills.
She’s sixteen.
Hens scatter at her approach.
The rooster rears its comb and crows –
wattles flap, brown feathers flutter,
and the morning knows what time it is.
If I did not know
how far an elevator
could take me,
I learned it then.
Nor did I know you
until we took that ride
up a concrete chute
from floor one to forty-five.
And stepped out
on a rooftop,
bracing breeze
with clasped hands,
at the very edge,
looked down, looked up,
preferred the latter to the former
as the clocks struck twelve.
It was New Year’s Eve
everywhere in the city,
but the fireworks rose no higher
than where we stood.
Always somewhere in a life,
another just wanders into it.
to prove special
or just be one more whoever.
I get ahead of myself
and it’s all a look back,
how my story is rewritten
here and there by other pens.
Some are strangers,
before and after
but others are remembered even
when they are no more.

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