Tag Archives: Samuel Hovda

Nocturne

I don’t believe that you’ll love me forever. Only for a time, like the long second When an oncoming car nearly swerves into your lane. I realize already in March that spring is fleeting, And so are our bodies, even … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Poem for a Friend Who Stopped Writing Poems

Where have you gone so soon, friend? Have your eyes burnt out like stars for the dawn? We once laughed, drank, talked about Eliot and his cats, Hemingway’s fascination with the phallus. Now you’ve disappeared like the wind On one … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 4 Comments

Driving Alone at Night, Listening to Taylor Swift

There is something metaphysical Or schizophrenic about knowing Not to fall in love with a married woman, But continuing to hold what-if thoughts In my head like snow globes. These are the songs only old men know The endings of. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Walking on a Frozen Lake

I tell you to wait on the shore, Because the water would ruin your makeup, Because you look warm in your dry skirt and coat, And because, if I fall in, maybe you can help me out, Though I doubt … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Reading Milton in My Living Room on a Tan Leather Sofa

The November light of the late afternoon Coming in through the window, I get through some of his sonnets and Lycidas. It is Sunday, and I’m reading To get ahead, but the text is getting hard to see, So I … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment