| RIFLE |
| by Harry Calhoun |
| out on my back deck, looking into the woods night turned barely morning, still almost black as the Labrador by my side, I have a notepad to capture my thoughts after dreaming of my anger at some woman who pointed a rifle at me and several members of her household and I yelled at her because my parents always told me never to point a gun at others, even unloaded, and my yelling pierced my sleep and my wife woke me from the nightmare and I remembered my mom pointing a loaded rifle at my dad and remembered her ordering me to load a gun and shoot my father and I remember again the dream and how angry I was at the woman for violating the rules and when I came back inside my notepad was empty except for what a beautiful spring morning, azaleas pink and purple and the grass high and green and ready for mowing |
Harry Calhoun writes
poetry, articles and essays.
His most recent chapbook
is "The Black Dog and the
Road." His work has
recently appeared in Chiron
Review, Chiaroscuro,
Orange Room Review, Bird’s
Eye reView, Abbey,
Monongahela and many
other journals. He is the
editor of A Pig in a Poke
magazine. He blogs at Harry
Calhoun and the poetry
game. He has an online
chapbook, "Dogwalking
Poems," and has also
published a trade
paperback, "I knew
Bukowski like you knew a
rare leaf."
poetry, articles and essays.
His most recent chapbook
is "The Black Dog and the
Road." His work has
recently appeared in Chiron
Review, Chiaroscuro,
Orange Room Review, Bird’s
Eye reView, Abbey,
Monongahela and many
other journals. He is the
editor of A Pig in a Poke
magazine. He blogs at Harry
Calhoun and the poetry
game. He has an online
chapbook, "Dogwalking
Poems," and has also
published a trade
paperback, "I knew
Bukowski like you knew a
rare leaf."
Gemini Magazine
_______________
| Above photo by John Pagliuca Top photo by David A. Bright |
