Where they built the new interchange, and overpasses squat on fat haunches, shouldering their burden of cars that speed along and away, ignorant of past and future, the oldest houses of the town once stood, and heavy oaks touched limbs across the street, stole the light and water, and the ground was a fine beaten […]
Brian Duncan
Brian Duncan lives in New Jersey with his wife, Margie, and two cats. He worked in a virology laboratory for many years. He enjoys devoting his retirement time to poetry, gardening, hiking and reminiscing. His poems appear in Gyroscope, ONE ART, Passengers Journal, Rust & Moth, Sheila-Na-Gig, Thimble, Whale Road Review, and others.
In the Barn
For Uncle Ken Nights, he milks under a cobwebbed bulb fixed low in ancient rafters. He has sat there forever, red-rimmed black rubber boots settled on urine-soaked floor. His head rests on tawny flanks of mother, then daughter. As his father taught, his hands squeeze with practiced rhythm. The only sounds […]
The Gathering
At the funeral of the father of my childhood friend we watched the priest wave the thurible around the casket, the incense purifying his hundred and one year old soul. The smoke drifted up into the light coming through stained glass high on the wall of the church, the colors separating into components, coming apart, […]