Poetry by David Filer

Dedicated to The Imani Project

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January 27, 2011



A sunny day

in late January.

Everyone knew

it would not last

but could not resist.

An old man

out in his front yard,

just standing,

perhaps looking

at the buds

already on the rose stems,

deciding how long

he can wait.




The depth of winter

is a riddle to be solved

by those who have time.




Now a school bus.

Now the gardener’s truck.

A man come to work

on the telephone wires.

Couldn’t it be Tuesday,

ordinary as can be,

except for the sun,

low in the sky still,

and brilliant, like glass?


(published by Red River Press)


—David Filer