Tag Archives: Poem

Silhouette

  Silhouette   H. W. Bryce   Prpl mini Dec 29,22 – Feb 2, 23   Standing slouched, a silhouette of dejection, Head bowed, unmoving, for hours, Her sack of meager belonging dangling at her feet. The door is locked, … Continue reading

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Filling the Air

  FILLING THE AIR                                Blogged Feb 13, 2023   H. W. Bryce   They arrive early, hate being late, They barge through the door talking. They fill the air with their words, Including clusters of empty verbs, And basketsful of … Continue reading

Posted in A Voice in the Wilderness, Being there, Blogging, Busy busy, Choices, Decisions, Memories, Poem | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

22nd Street

  22nd STREET   H. W. Bryce Waiting for the 22nd Street bus, I stood standing at the clifflike hillside on the escarpment one twilight eve, purveying all down below:   City lights spread out below, shining bright, Shimmering, twinkling, … Continue reading

Posted in A Voice in the Wilderness, Being there, Life, Lonely, Lost, Magic, Memory, Moments, Poem, Remembering | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

TheFourth of Tomorrow

  THE FOURTH OF TOMORROW H. W. bryce   THIS GOES FOR Canada, too:   The First of July   Pale blu mini comp of Jun 12, 2022 – July 3, 2022 BECAUSE, AS I EXPECTED, GUN VIOLENCE.   ON THE … Continue reading

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If I Could Choose

  IF I COULD CHOOSE   H. W. Bryce   If I could choose, I’d swim with whales. It must be so peaceful down there, At the bottom of the sea. It must be like touching eternity, A place of … Continue reading

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The Road Back

  THE ROAD BACK H. W. Bryce After a tragedy, after your fall, The advice is cliché to be sure, But so is the road to the trouble. It’s Human Nature, and it has its flaws.   There are potholes … Continue reading

Posted in A Voice in the Wilderness, Alzheimer's, Angels, Beauty, Elderly, Fellowship, Grand parents, Hard time, Helping, Helpless, Lonely, Poem | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

At the Crossroads

  AT THE CROSSROADS   H. W. Bryce   At the crossroads of last year and the new year, I stand looking back, looking forward. Which shall I be? Last year’s old man, all Worn out and disillusioned, distraught,   … Continue reading

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