a poetry e-zine










Poems By John Hitchner



Evening falls upon the city
with rush of umbrellas and rain,
busses and taxis filled, taken.
A wanderer seeks shelter
down a subway kiosk,
follows angles and stairs,
searches pockets for correct change,
and finding not enough,
seeks fortune
with words spoken before,
hands offered before.
Nothing given, nothing taken,
except eyes that slide away
toward tokened metal mouths,
entrances and exits.
He stands between,
and hears down a concrete tunnel
a train approach,
its voice like shattered glass,
familiar final.

John T. Hitchner teaches Essay Writing at Keene State College, Keene, NH. His poetry has appeared in such journals as Common Ground Review, Tar Wolf Review, and Paper Street, most recently in Hidden Oak. It has been published online at The Diner.



Copyright 2007  Chantarelle's Notebook