Poetry by Malcolm John Drinkwater
(On reading Gray and Emily, respectfully)
When poets visit resting places,
it ruffles owl’s feathers, disturbs her secret bower
and leaves the resting restless
in anticipation of
the rumination sure to come.
Warrantless, they enter uninvited,
ready to expound here and hereafter,
the elegies they’d leave behind.
The resting disinclined to parley,
their condition well defined.
Is there no life among the ruined,
beside the church or in their alabaster homes?
Who knows where the meek or rude
forefathers sleep, if they sleep at all?
Or have the waters of some ancient river
washed their memories clean?
All this is unresolved.
Pity in leaving they’d not waited
to see their resting place was gated.
About the Poet
Malcolm John Drinkwater, a native New Orleanian, lives with his family in California. Retiring from federal employment in Washington D.C., he read Shakespeare’s Metrical Art by George T. Wright. This led him to try his hand at writing poetry and explore poetry’s versification history. His poetry reflects on aging, global warming, art and poetry itself, and bends toward linguistic insights and the sea.