Tag Archives: Poetry

(Cellphone Call—to the hospital in the evening) by B.W. Powe

(Cellphone Call—to the hospital in the evening)     

What were you doing mom
I was eating dinner
what did you have
I don’t remember
was it edible
it must have been because I ate it
that was my mother—quickly here—mensa-like—
I laughed and said goodnight mom
goodnight son she said and goodnight moon
goodnight room goodnight air and goodnight noises
everywhere
I smiled again—recalling the nursery rhyme too—
and said love you
the same she said the same

“Invisible Streams” B.W. Powe (Upcoming Publication)

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Angel

            Angel

Photograph by Cristina Miranda de Almeida

Photograph by Cristina Miranda de Almeida

I saw her struggle on the street
in the traffic and the sleet
she said fields are burning
the searchlights are yearning

for what’s greater than hope or duty
she called for stars flesh love and beauty
but I was rushing on my way—
to what and why I couldn’t say

“Invisible Streams” B.W. Powe (Upcoming Publication)