By David Stallings © 2007
My young self drives an old Volvo
up Fourth Avenue for the first time,
just below Yesler overpass
near where I work.
He has left his Colorado home forever,
bound for graduate school in Seattle.
I will hail him as I often do,
reach for words
of confidence
and fathering he has long
missed.
But not today.
Fuck it.
I am old and lonely.
This time, it is he […]
By David Stallings © 2005
An elderly Asian man
finds a seat near me
on the Route 550 to Bellevue.
About every third breath,
he emits a deep Buhhhh
from low in his throat.
This eruption shivers me,
though less than I might
have expected. He is not
so much older than I.
By the time we cross
Lake Washington, I quietly
try on a sympathetic
Buhhhh, about every
third breath. It’s not
so bad […]
By David Stallings © 2003
Pioneer Square, so sunny it feels good.
Next to me, waiting for the walk light,
a trim woman smiles hello.
Encouraged, I return the smile.
Crossing First Avenue, she’s a fine sight.
I follow, ready for
casual, tasteful ogling.
She moves quickly.
My pace increases.
I scamper to keep up.
She skips up the steep terminal steps.
I am breathless,
more aware of falling behind
than of her […]
By David Stallings © 2003
Nothing can restrain the light.
Spring billows along the shore,
the roar of the sap
races in my ears.
Dark clouds to the north
and in my chest.
Wherever I look,
sadness and doubt.
Numbing tiredness.
The thrumming of ferry pistons
promises my exhaustion
a lovely short nap.
Misty morning bike ride,
spray on my pant leg.
No bother,
it will dry
and brush off.
Gray sky, water, air,
dull green wash along […]
By David Stallings © 2002
On my morning commute
I pass a panhandler
who insists,
“Top ‘o the morning to you!”
I hurry by.
Who does he think he is
rudely intruding, jocular,
and hoping to make a buck?