Two Poems by Susan Surette


He presents a silent vigil
isolated like a leper
in a dimly-lit alley
off a mean city street
he sits
back pressing against
cold graffiti-laced cement
wearing soiled ragged jeans
his brows are thick like his
work roughened hands
a stranger to soap
hair without direction
a grimy overcoat
heavily lined with despair


Dust settles anonymously
upon quiet surfaces
where noise is
unwelcome house

Floors creak
clocks tick
windows subtly rattle
corners settle
wind vibrates

Sitting motionless
determined ears
detect the subtle hum
from day’s evaporating energy

a deafening to those
who lay awake


Susan Surette is an avid traveler, bibliophile, grandmother, hand drummer, yogi and poet with work published in The Avocet, Westward Quarterly, The Voices Project, and The Curlew. She recently founded the Not Yet Dead Poets Society in Cape Cod, Massachusetts.

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