Poetry – Page 85 – Grand Little Things

Two Poems By J. Weintraub

My Father’s Victory Garden: 1945 Once a farmer’s meadow, this plot of urban land beyond the shadows of the Lutheran church, a few blocks above

Always towards the Sun Long long before long ago, Earth Was originally set within a koru Unfurling at every antlike moment Directly towards

Mingy Half-blind she came to claim our affection, playing the staircase game, tummy rubs, all she wished. Until the pain left her curled up

Pastoral The long night walks with slow and measured steps across a field to meet the coming dawn, his pockets filled with secrets of

CRITIC Cigarette smoke forms a cloud above my head, My hand trembles at the thought of putting pen to paper. Self-doubt, it’s intoxicating. Words

Villanelle 2020 Each day, these days, I make the time for grief It’s not just sadness, but a form of prayer: I watch the

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