Thursday 5 November 2015

3 Poems by Dan Cardoza

City Coyote

You caught my eye as
I drove past the burnt sienna field
near our home

Raised your snout
as if to mock my humanity
my tether to security
does not meet your approval
I thought

When I stopped to get a better view
you stood silent
your thick sable fir bristling in the
heavy summer breeze
ears perked  
showing no fear

When I would lie
in darkness
I often heard you
at the water's edge
where my safety ends
comfortable there
even in the bone cold
of late November

The wind carried your yelp
from house to house
many nights  
waking no one in particular

I was always listening

As the years pass
I can't remember
when I heard you  
you must have journeyed
up river
where your breath grew shallow
then still  
under a damp sage

I will miss you

The Water's Edge

I sit on my childhood bed
head lowered
inhaling darkness
last saffron rays of light

Our lives
mundane cadence
years metronome forward

Footprints at the water's edge

Makes more sense now
the void
the sound of one hand clapping

What matters most about being lost
at the water's edge
is that it does not matter which way
your prints point in the sand

In the end
comfort once forbidden
in the dark
has its own slack tide
it's here
that I wash myself as clean
as a new born blade
before the first cut

Your Last Salutation, Lost Forever in the Ethernet

An email arrived today.
I read it in full
 my eyes bending to the salutation.
"...Yours, Missy."

I stared at the paragraphs
lifeless letters
The painful goodbye.
All those adjectives
wrapping sadness with
a pretty bow.
Those last thoughts
that inevitably come with parting.

You said it was best
and that someday
I would find my true love as you would.
You want nothing
just to keep the car
you left with and your memories.
You will never hear from me again you wrote.

The email continued:
" the day we walked in the rainy park
I secretly wept
as you would not notice the tears.
All those evenings together
our eyes never meeting
distance building its
empty yardsticks.
Goodbye. "

An hour passed
as I stared at the email's
spell checked
perfect grammar
one last kiss font.
I wondered out loud
who the hell is Missy?


Dan participates in poetry readings throughout Northern California, and very much enjoy pushing my comfort zone in this.  There is nothing like owning your own work and showing selfish passion for what you write, heavy or light.

Some of my prior publications include the following: Pierian Spring, Brandon University, Canada, The Archer, Poetry Northwest, The  Poet, Fine Arts Society, Anthology; Avocet, The Ardent Poetry Journal, California Quarterly, Poetry Now, Aleola Journal of Poetry, Eskimo Pie, Dead Snakes. Thank you Mrs. Davis, Community College English Instructor, for giving this kid from a Mill Town wings.

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