Milton P. Ehrich

SILHOUETTES ON A WALL

 

During twilight hours

I walk around the park

and see silhouettes

on my handball wall

where I once played

with Father and friends

and see everyone I loved

who also loved me

voiceless without smiles

they send a silent message

as they come and go

in cameo appearances

standing stolid and still

before they disappear

and now all that remains

from where they stood

is an ebony black shadow

on the wall in the shape

of a lone arrow pointing.

 

THE END AT THE END OF THE ROAD

 

I stumble forward—trudging along until

I see my imagination-enriched view

of the end of the road.

But I see no Pearly Gates

or hand of God to greet me—

not even a Dead-End sign.

Just a pile of rocky rubble

With a graffity-scribbled question:

How have you managed to walk so far

with your head up your ass?

 

Milton P. Ehrlich Ph.D. is an 89-year-old psychologist and a veteran

of the Korean War. He has published poems in The Antigonish Review,

London Grip, Arc Poetry Magazine, Descant Literary Magazine, Wisconsin

Review, Red Wheelbarrow, Christian Science Monitor, and the New York

Times.