All posts by Michael Holman

Those Little Ones


Oh to see them—those little ones—with outstretched pudgy arms

Little fingers curling air, in working ways to draw me in

Smiling, laughing, running races, unmindful of life’s myriad harms

What blessed fleeting moments these, encompassed by their cheerful din


The trust they have is honey sweet, and to feel it’s worth, sublime

To be the object of such faith is scary lovely through and through

That trust is good and fast I know, untainted by sad effects of time

Sure enough, that I am, I’ll stumble here and there, it’s true

But by God’s good grace and their charming face I’ll be worthy yet

Of simple love, and unforced smiles, hugs and kisses too

1997 April 3

Forgotten Futures

Last night I listened to the whispering wind
Imagining it told of love in a language I couldn’t understand
Loneliness hollowed my body
Gripping my heart with a cold hand

I wrestled with memories of forgotten futures
all laid to waste in the dark allies of a mind
that’s taken a thousand ill conceived turns
Only the passion erases the last false promise
Only the passion still burns