Five poems published recently in Literary Magazines

 

Three poems are appearing in the current issue of HeartWood Literary Magazine from West Virginia Wesleyan College

THE NEW APARTMENT

We had no trouble finding it.
The door was unlocked so we walked right in.

The outdoor staircase was beautiful.
We both loved the view of the Hudson River.

You would be busy with something else in the morning.
I took care of all the paperwork.

Even after I was awake for a long time, I did not stop to think
that we had decided on this apartment in a dream.

I HESITATED BEFORE THE MYSTERY OF YOUR ABSENCE

There was no warning in the mirror.

The world had halted.

Alexander’s famous horse began to dance.

My hands were full of grapes. Servants surrounded

me, carrying platters of snow from the Caucasus.

Alarm bells rang, gendarmes came running. The hour

was late. I lit a cigarette. You appeared before my eyes.

 

FOUNDATION

you almost choked on that wild golden

apple we found on a tree next to a field

growing out of the foundation of what

had once been a farmhouse overlooking a valley

a hundred and fifty miles from here

 

—MICHAEL COONEY

from  Boats Against The Current - a literary magazine

as we traveled north

We talked to people from various states.

We looked for rest stops with convenient bathrooms.

I picked up take-out for the motel.

I carried your oxygen concentrator out to the car.

We crossed into Georgia and South Carolina.

Last year we went up into the Smoky Mountains.

You were feeling much better, and we saw bears.

Our favorite café was closed.

The radiation seemed like nothing after the chemo.

The top of the mountain was beautiful.

Your hair had grown back.

We returned to the hotel overlooking the town.

In October we went to the coast and ate oysters.

You really liked apple martinis.

I don’t think you ever had the fish tacos.

I do not want to talk to anyone

or go anywhere without you

from Hidden Peak Press in Colorado

At the Waterfall

To what extent this will shorten my life is a question
I will not ask. I do not want an answer.
People get older. People forget. People die.
The calendar dictates, you could say, all things.

The waterfall that we visited in the morning
when you were nineteen was not Niagara.
We sat down beside it. Your head was in my lap.
Do you see that girl? She has your eyes.

— MICHAEL COONEY