By: Frank William Finney 

Little Eden

Our little oasis between
condos and traffic

sheltering shades of
green and grey.

You’re under the creepers
scanning the skyline.

I’m in the doghouse
howling as usual.

We’ll keep our distance
We’ll keep our vows

till either one of us
sees a snake.

###

Four Corners

Youth’s fog cutters. mai-tais.
sex-on-the- beach.

A vixen in velvet
behind the bar.

Now it’s tepid green tea
on the patio.

A cat in a cage
before a goldfish bowl.

###

Augury

A day after
my father died

an owlet appeared
in the streetlight haze

and roosted near
the rubble

where his house
once stood.

Three nights later
the bird disappeared

but the sparrows kept chittering
“We’re still here”.

###

The Divers
The sounds of their splashes
nudged our nerves
to the cliffs

lest someone
miss the water

and christen
the slaughter stone.

###

Frank William Finney retired after 25 years in higher education working in Thailand.  His work has appeared in well over 100 publications including Verandah, The Best of Vine Leaves Literary Journal (Australia), Universal Oneness Anthology (India), Orbis, Firewords, Poetry Nottingham (UK), Japanophile, Ethereal Green, Great Midwestern Quarterly (USA).