poem index

sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox

About this Poem 

“The first stanza came to me just as it is on an afternoon walk. It took me more than a year to get the other three to go with it.”
Michael Chitwood

Accomplishments

What you have not done
is without error. What you
have not said is beyond contradiction.

What you understand of God
was yesterday. Today a bicycle
waits, chained to a bench.

The success of this afternoon’s nap
is the dream of lifting seven boxes,
your week, sealed with clear tape.

They stack, three to a column,
with the seventh like a capstone.
What you do not know they contain.
 

Copyright © 2014 by Michael Chitwood. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright © 2014 by Michael Chitwood. Used with permission of the author.

Michael Chitwood

by this poet

poem
Here were said the words men say.
The oil stove winked its slit black eye;
it knew they did not have their way.

A whitetail made for the edge of the page.
Vitalis came before the talc.
My father's dark hair began to fade.

Barrelhead Thurman palmed my scalp,
knuckled my ear when he was done
just to hear a