John Drudge

John is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology.  He is the author of four books of poetry: “March” (2019), “The Seasons of Us” (2019), New Days (2020), and Fragments (2021). His work has appeared widely in numerous literary journals, magazines, and anthologies internationally. John is also a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and lives in Caledon Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.

Not Everyone

Everybody suffers
Not everybody learns
Victimhood
Is not enough
For truth 
To ring out
Over roads of bones
And rivers of blood
Over the last breath 
Of our aching
Not everyone 
Walks into tomorrow
Not everyone awakens
With the sunrise

Silent Repent

In the awe
And creeping terror
Of a thundering night
I lose myself
In the promise
Of you
Soothed by phantom touch
As I rise beyond
The chaos of nature
And the whirl
Of flying freely
Through the storm
Past stars hanging
In eternal space
And dark reflections
Of the sublime
Soaring beyond
The valleys of my regrets
And dreaming
The dream of you
Soft and warm
In the seeping light
Of the sun rising

Malibu

Ghosts Stroll
Malibu Beach
With my youth
With my young family
I have been here before
And I will be here
Forever
I will watch the faded stars
On the horizon 
Beyond the waves
And scrub plains
Of desert relief
And I will cry
The aching crests 
Of loss
With the sand touching 
Our toes
And your hand
Touching mine

Over Sunset

When the shift 
Came
Few noticed
The gentle rocking
Of the canyon 
As it swept
Across
The far horizon
Troubadours of hope
In a parade of tears
Walking 
The shame away
As the boulevard 
Sang softly
In the new summer 
Heat

Kiss

He needs
Or so it seems
In the reflections
Of who we think
We are
Or maybe not
Or perhaps the reverse
Of things like need
That get 
Stuck 
In the rhythm 
Of what we can 
Become
And sink so much
Into the sunrise
Of our shaking
Quivering inch by inch
Into the briefest kiss
Of tomorrow

Alike

We set out
Along the fence line
Where the wild 
Hungers roam
Across the meadow
Through the frost
Of an early morning 
Sunrise
Where everything 
Is beautiful
Within a truer future
Waiting 
Where the tall grass 
Grows
And believing 
We are brothers
Under the same 
God

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