27 days ago

Entertainment Carlyle R Phelps poem poetry Hawkes Not Jokes

Hawkes, Not Jokes:

Why did the Hawk cross the road?
Flyin’ out the door, through the snow, and over the way—
He couldn’t be lookin for a warmer house—
Perhaps stronger trees to perch on?—I couldn’t say.

He left behind a bustling nest,
An exhaled ghost, and floating feathers—
A singular frame separating what was and what might have been—
In the end, none of ‘em may ever feel at home again.

To be fair, there was an awful lot’a life packed into 30 years.
To…be…fair, it never would have been enough.
Time collapsin’ like the piggy’s straw structure,
Acquiescing to a slobbery, fanged monster.

It seemed a beautiful place to live,
But now it’s an awfully sad place to be.
It may take some time to forgive,
And even longer for any sense of normalcy.

“Knock! Knock!”

Who ever could it be?
Gracing my door so late in the winter—
Braving the snow and ice-slicked streets,
At the end of my day, waking me from sleep.