"A Walk Along the River"

 

"A Walk Along the River"

Greg Budig 2021

The river moves like 

black ink through the 

ice and boulders along 

the shoreline. 

The gulf stream 

has risen from the 

delta through 

the night. 

March is creeping 

from the south.

 Warmth and moisture 

surging north.

Walking along the river 

in the early morning fog. 

The robins find their 

voices in the darkness. 

Feeling like a 

specter who glides 

alone amongst the 

grieving shadows. 

Feeling suspended 

in the atmosphere, gliding 

along the river's edge to 

watch the seasons change. 

The End 

"Write Something"

"Write Something"

Greg Budig 2021

Sometimes 

I need to just 

write something. 

Nothing 

of importance. 

No grand ideals. 

Something 

to remind me of 

what it is to create. 

Wanting to 

put more than 

words on the page.

Poetry is 

listening to the 

voices in your head. 

Your  poems 

have all been written

but are hidden inside. 

Capturing 

the words that 

come streaming out. 

Finding 

meaning to the 

chatter in your brain.

Writing 

without trying. 

Filling up the page. 

Expressions 

slowly seeping 

through your dreams. 

Something 

to remind me of 

what it is to wonder.

Sometimes 

you need to 

close your eyes to see. 

The End 

"Remembering"

"Remembering"

Greg Budig 2021

Remembering 

the touch of your 

hand in the darkness. 

Words were 

not needed at

that particular time. 

Knowing 

each other for what 

seemed like a lifetime. 

I knew what you meant to me. 

Remembering 

your laughter is 

haunting my memory. 

You learned 

how to handle 

my irrelevant side. 

I loved how 

you laughed until 

you started to cry. 

Lost in your own special joy.

Remembering 

thinking that you 

always would be here. 

I knew 

better of course,

but I chose to forget. 

So many 

things had been 

taken for granted. 

So many times to regret. 

Remembering 

you falling asleep 

watching movies. 

Of rubbing 

your feet as we 

lay on the couch. 

All the 

little things that 

we shared together. 

Remembering 

how much I was loved 

The End 

"Well Passed Middle Age"

 

"Well Passed Middle Age"

Greg Budig 2021

Steps taken 

without ever 

moving forward. 

Time is

suspended in the 

journey you're on. 

Your feet 

no longer take 

you on adventures. 

Further behind 

 you are all the 

years that have passed. 

A stranger 

takes over what 

used to be familiar. 

Confused 

by everything you 

suddenly have become. 

A new chapter is

written before the 

old one is finished.

There are not 

as many pages as 

thought there would be. 

Counting on 

one hand what 

used to be forever. 

Don't think 

about the journey,

you're about to arrive. 

Counting the 

scratches on life's 

well worn wall.

Feeling secure about 

growing older, not too 

sure about growing old. 

The End