and winter coming–
seems a small step
album my daughter grabs too often
Naked and cold
look at the mirror, the light uneven
framing the shower stall,
the watch face beside the sink–
nurse could be nearby, ready to pat the skin,
warm up, lighten
. . looking for a ripe flow.
room where you’ve lived
a greater portion of space goes unlit
leaves turning red
a window in the plane, his vague thoughts
a few seconds
words from the routine
blow your assumptions to hell–slow,
plastic wall around him
of working engines...
assume the rootedness
needs killing–to take back the world.
Floor: Two Firemen After the Collapse
They couldn't hear
noise in their minds
enormous collapse around them
as luck mimics God. Looking up
saw blue, a split second amazed
and then it hit this was all death:
smoke red souls
like tree limbs breaking and hitting dry dirt.
The smoke was a glue
bound the souls and settled them
2007, Timothy Houghton. ©
This work is protected
under the U.S. copyright laws.
Timothy Houghton's recent book, Drop Light (his fourth), appeared in 2005 from Orchises Press. Positive reviews of this book have appeared in such magazines as Chelsea and The Literary Review. He has received over 20 fellowships to work on his poetry from such organizations as Yaddo, Hawthornden Castle International Retreat, and The MacDowell Colony. His poems have appeared in over 50 national and itnernational journals, including Chelsea, Quarterly West, Malahat Review, and Stand. For years he has led birdwatching hikes for Audubon.