Still Here

By Eric Greinke

Originally published in The Delaware Poetry Review


I slump
in my black chair.
Whole lives pass
beyond brown eyes.
My thoughts
are with hawks
but engines whoosh
in my spatial ears.
I turn up the music
& dance to the spheres.
My old knees squeak,
knocking against space.
My shelf life
is longer
than my journey.
Seeing a woodpecker
bang an old oak
I think of the time
a lovely redhead
listened to my chest
then struck it repeatedly
in the heart.
Even the continental drift
is nothing
compared to these lost days.
I’m glad I still have you.


Eric Greinke has two new Presa Press books scheduled for 2016, Poets In Review (a collection of forty-six reviews written from 1972 to the present) and Zen Duende – Collaborative Poems with Glenna Luschei. Recent work has appeared in the Aurorean, Delaware Poetry Review, Forge, Gargoyle, Home Planet News, Ibbetson Street, Main St. Rag, Poem, The Pedestal, So It Goes, Solo Novo and as a fine art broadside by Adastra Press. His poetry has found a large international audience.

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