My Streets

By a narrow
Stoic universe
Owing nothing
To anyone
On the cobbled stones
With an airy desperation
Firm in my pocket
And hidden
From everything
Worth hiding from
From anything
Below the waterline
Along the swift
Swollen river
With the dark currents
Of old torments
And the windswept spaces
Beneath the bridges
Pulling me helplessly
Into the sinewed arms
Of my Paris
As the copper sun
Begins to set


All the little things
Come back
After loss
And laughter
A smile
A touch
The things
We took for granted
And the stepping stones
That connect us
To those memories
That define
The way forward

Waiting by the Pond

At night
The bullfrogs
In my pond
Are very vocal
Eager for something
In the cold charcoal mist
Of another hawing
They speak to me
In a blunt
And pleading way
As I sit
In the icy black
Of the night’s
And wait for you

Another Morning

Chasing life
On broken wings
Of time
Learning through
Not knowledge
Connected to the ideals
Of loss
And growing
Through the lessons
Of inevitable demise
But stepping
Into tomorrow
And the promise
Of another burning sun
Leaves us breathless
In the light of morning
And eager
To arise

Author’s Biography

John is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology.  He is the author of three books of poetry: “March” and “The Seasons of Us” (both published in 2019) and New Days (published in 2020). His work has appeared widely in numerous literary journals, magazines, and anthologies internationally. John is also a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and lives in Caledon Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.