Gregory Liffick - Three Poems

Trinkets

The being
chain
often
dangles us
like charms
on a
bracelet.
Only for
looks.
Not like
a ring
that
ties us
to something.
Cheap
brass.
Not
dipped
in gold.



Crier

He stood
on a
milk crate
in the
park,
reading
his work
to mostly
indifferent
passersby.
Only
curiosity
stopped
a few
to listen.
Nothing
in the lines
bowled
over ears.
But he
spoke them
loud
and clear.



Cycle

Spring
flows
to stream,
to the river,
to the
sea.
Lungs
take in
air,
flows to
the blood,
to the
heart,
to the
brain.
Clouds
exhale
rain back
to the
earth.
We breath
out
the carbon
that makes
and
remakes
us.



Gregory Liffick has had about fifty poems published in about thirty print and online journals and has had two chapbooks published. He is also a special education teacher, artist and musician.