Author Archives: Timothy P. Schilling
Silhouette
O friend, O friend —
O friend I’ve failed to be.
Would that I could cut out
the cuts that slip from me.
The Outsiders
A carp paid the wind
To build a wall —
it’s ice ‘tween him and me.
And there he sits in his dark,
knowing I can’t see.
But I’ve cut a hole
and drawn a chair:
I’ve the patience of a tree.
Comes a thaw,
I’ll crash through that wall
and face to face we’ll be.
I look at you, you look at me
Just around the bend
Thy twisting Word
On a tree
flipped the earth
and flung the sea.
His waves in space
are coursing still.
They have a lot of
time to kill.






