Poet Robert K. Johnson is the former poetry editor of the literary magazine  Ibbetson Street. He was a professor of English at Suffolk University for many years as well. Here, he writes wonderfully wistful poems, with a stunning clarity that is signature Johnson.

Poet Robert K. Johnson

EVERY DAWN, I LOVE

to sit in my breakfast nook
while gold leaves entertain me

by floating through the grey air
and settling–as if arranged
like models a painter instructs–

on the patio’s faded bricks
that I rake clean every night.

But today I awoke when the air
was blazing with sunlight;

by the time I took my seat,
hundreds of leaves had already
fallen, already lay still

whether I’d watched their flight
or had never live.

A MOMENT’S MUSIC

Though night-cold,
a couple
hurry their laughter
right past the stoop

where I stand,
touched
by the fringe
of their love’s warmth.

YOUR TABLEAU

Glancing at
you standing
rain-pelted
near the curb–

your beseeching arm
raised heavenward
in the hope a taxi
will rescue you–

how can I help
but see you
as more
than just yourself.

— Robert K. Johnson

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