Three Poems
William Cullen Jr. A Mountain Reprieve Just the shadow of a fly cast too far over the still stream gets a brook trout leaping up high enough to let its image reform before falling back into itself caught again in that wonder of just living on. Epitaph for a Preacher’s Son Predication was never his forte. He could bank an eight ball expertly smooth as the velvet it rolled over. A metaphor for his life he was good with single shots connecting each hour to the next but had no grand design no thought of tomorrow much less any after life. When they found him dead in the gutter he had his pool cue with him pointing north where he always said he would go. And maybe he did. Finding Out His Old Man Died He did not weep but lit his father’s pipe and settling back in his porch chair every once in awhile when the clouds gave way he blew a smoke ring at the moon. |
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About the Author: William Cullen Jr. is a veteran and was born in Petersburg, Virginia. He lived in Alabama, Georgia and Germany before settling down in Brooklyn, New York, where he works at a social services non-profit. His work has appeared in Canary, Concis, Farming Magazine, Gulf Stream, Heartwood, Pouch, Spillway and Written River: A Journal of Eco-Poetics.