Poetry by David Hanlon

Grandfather Clock
 
               My grandfather,
like the antique clock,
               was a masterful timekeeper,
a weight-driven pendulum
               encased in a tower.
 
Who told me never
                to waste time giving more value to
the material things in life over
                those who care for you.
 
Who also told me that
                gratitude is a moment-to-moment practice,
offered in even the very smallest of gestures.
                And I still here him ticking now,
long after his time was up.




​A Portrait of You as Dahlia 

You’re dignified 
& grateful, 
can be any hue 
except blue, 
you generously 
unfurl florets— 
flowers 
that make up 
a flower.




Mausoleum
 
They say I'm brave, I'm coping so well;
I feel impressive:
like the Taj Mahal,
beautiful even,
but housing so much death.

Bio: David Hanlon is from Cardiff, Wales, and currently living in Bristol, England. He has a BA in Film Studies and is training part-time as a counsellor/therapist. You can find his work online at Ink, Sweat & Tears, Fourth & Sycamore, Calamus Journal, Occulum, The Rising Phoenix Review & Writers Resist, among others.

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