Tobacco Road Poet - Curtis Dunlap

my father smiled
and with a wave of his hand
said, "See you later."
the snow flakes that fell that day
now ice around his grave

Notes from the Gean – Issue 4, March 2010

why does the rain
evoke images of you?
your hair, your scent,
an entire day spent pondering
what ifs and could have beens

Magnapoets – Issue 5, January 2010

scenic overlook–
standing on the rock
where two lovers
threw themselves
into a blaze of autumn

Atlas Poetica – Number 4, Autumn, 2009

a recurring dream:
the two of us parked
in your car, laughing,
in the cemetery
where you are buried

Magnapoets – Issue 4, July, 2009

that poor birch tree
scarred with our initials
decades ago . . .
how I wish someone
would chop it down

Prune Juice – Issue 2, Summer, 2009

smoking
has stolen
her angelic voice
and with it
a piece of my heart

Prune Juice – Issue 2, Summer, 2009

a text message
from my wife
in the next room–
the distance between us
widening

Prune Juice – Issue 2, Summer, 2009

on second thought
I'll leave the radio off
preferring instead
a child's
improvised allegro

Magnapoets – Issue 3, January, 2009

fewer deer
in the herd we watched
by the roadside–
a gun barrel cools
in the morning mist

Magnapoets – Issue 3, January, 2009

the moon
receding 3.8 centimeters
a year
how else to explain
this longing for you

Magnapoets – Premiere Issue, January, 2008

When my time is over
there will be no death poem
just this testament of life:
“I've gone to thank the One
who blessed me with children.”

Spring 2006 TSA's Journal Ribbons

second honeymoon–
our first outdoor shower
together
what a delight to find that water
can rekindle a fire

red lights, vol. 2, no. 1, January 2006

that maple tree,
two years ago red leaves
last year yellow
now orange
this is how we've grown

Winter 2005 TSA's Journal Ribbons

sipping sake,
let us prolong
this moment–
under a lovers' moon
we write poetry

Winter 2005 TSA's Journal Ribbons

flipping the pages
of a photo album
my inner child
grows old
before my eyes

Autumn 2005 TSA Members' Anthology

in through the meshed wire
of the screen door
an inch worm wiggles–
I, too, have no desire
to become worldly today

Autumn 2005 TSA's Journal Ribbons

she kneels for Yeats
I reach for Akiko
in the poetry aisle
reading the smile
of a lovely stranger

Summer 2005 TSA's Journal: Ribbons

dust clouds
from a hoe
a sweat droplet
dangles
from my father's nose

Summer 2005 TSA's Journal Ribbons

Faith
(a tanka sequence)

from the onset
of the first G-chord
an Alzheimer's patient
lifts her head
to sing

with his one
good leg
the old man
taps his foot to
“Sweet Bye And Bye”

the lady
in a wheelchair
struggles to follow–
“One more song
before you go?”

red lights, vol. 1, no. 2, June 2005

casual conversation–
a young barber speaks
of spring break plans
while clumps of gray hair
gather in my lap

Spring 2005 Simply Haiku , vol 3 no 1

dozing
to the drone
of the train's engines
I slip
into tomorrow

Spring 2005 Simply Haiku ,vol 3 no 1

a mild winter day–
my daughter dances
to Vivaldi
today, I don't mind
having crow's feet

Spring 2005 Simply Haiku ,vol 3 no 1

you pass my door
in a rush
to smoke a cigarette
without a pause
for my one breath poem

Spring 2005 Simply Haiku ,vol 3 no 1

little green snake
on the woodland path
I watch you depart
across the fallen leaves
through my camera lens

Spring 2005 Simply Haiku ,vol 3 no 1

a wrinkled photo
of a young girl
bathing in the lake–
I fall in love again
with my wife

Spring 2005 TSA's Journal Ribbons

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