david francis barker

Little Things

Sometimes I think I can
catch the cat thinking.
He sits in the window,
light in narrow-slit eyes

looking upward eagerly
at the flitting show of birds.
Then the cooling television
gives a sudden ‘crack!’

He looks at me
and I return the stare,
wondering what goes on
between those velvet ears.

I for one thought it
would be nice and quiet
without all that satellite babble,
where even a moment’s silence

is like an aberration, but now
he thinks something is there,
perhaps more interesting
than what’s going on outside.

I’ve heard someone say
it’s the little things that count
and I’m grateful for little things.
Sometimes.

Candle (for Kit Marlowe)

In the lighting of a candle
deeper focus comes—
colours to shadows,
clarity to your whispers
reaching across cold centuries

Here Edward and Gaveston
play once again, and you,
feigning more provocative stands
sit and tut at bodies of christ,
until I turn over another page

David Francis Barker is a poet, writer, painter, sometime freelancer, mercurial with the necessary saturnine tendencies of self-doubt and introspection. He regularly blogs at francisbarkerart.com and his most recent work can be found at Shot Glass Journal. His poetry collection ‘Anonymous Lines’, is available at amazon.com.

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