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Mike Bayles Poem
The sweet breeze through the window
asks nothing as unseen birds call.
It asks nothing of the sun
as it sweeps across yards,
yet it whispers to waking dreams.
My dreams ask,
Did I love too much?
behind my mind’s eye,
visions
and what do they mean
when we give of ourselves
so fully we are spent.
Now I’m alone.
Canadian geese gather
crowding a path along the river
as the day passes,
so consumed with each other
they ignore the mothers
and children who pass.
A ski jet slaps waves,
and the river breathes.
The gaggle whispers among itself,
and nature speaks a language of her own.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2021
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Mike Bayles Poem
A faceless man is standing in produce.
He’s crying. No one stops.
No one asks him why.
He says the sky is falling
He says it again and again.
He grabs a passerby’s arm
and tell them it’s falling.
The passerby drops
a head of lettuce onto the floor.
A woman in tattered jeans
says the cost of meat has gone up.
A young mother
with a baby in the basket
wheels a cart of formula
and wonders how anyone
can afford to live
while outside a boy in high school
races an empty shopping cart
through the parking lot.
A woman with stringy, long hair
standing near the entrance
plays guitar
and the case is open
for dollar bills and quarters.
A weary clerk brings
in a line of carts
and says the task never ends.
The woman says life’s a show—
Bring in the clowns, she sings.
Displays of Doritos lined
up by the entrance
say buy more—
one bag is never enough.
The clerk stands near the front
and keeps his hands in his pockets
as he watches a wave of humanity
walks in and out the entrance.
The manager looks at him.
Smile, she says.
One month after his lady friend
transferred to another store
he is standing alone
in a crowd.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2024
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Mike Bayles Poem
Someone in a small town
gave me a place after losing my home.
The window of my room in the morning
gave waking visions of a yard in bloom.
The family cavalier spaniel
gave company when I was alone.
The park where we walked
gave a fresh breeze to ease my thoughts.
The breath of a fresh breeze
gave new life and inspiration.
The mother playing with her child
gave a moment’s affection.
The lady down the street
gave odd jobs for spare change.
The local food pantry
gave a basket of food.
Its social worker
gave words of comfort.
The brass band in the band shell
gave a song to remember.
The bartender at the corner tap
gave a free whiskey and a hug.
The view out my window at night
gave visions of a town in slumber.
The small town I found
gave what I needed most.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2016
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Mike Bayles Poem
18 and 20
this poem lies between
a summer dream and
shadows of winter
it awakens with a flourish
birdsong that arises
falls silent
a lover’s whisper
in gusts of wind
leaves of orange
raining upon the ground
to the sun’s dull glow
raining upon the ground
leaves of orange
in gusts of wind
a lover’s whisper
falls silent
birdsong that arises
it awakens with a flourish
shadows of winter
a summer dream and
this poem lies between
18 and 20
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2021
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Mike Bayles Poem
Sunlight leaks
through the curtain
after I’ve thrown off the covers.
Downstairs the television flickers
as a roommate sleeps
on the couch.
He was talking politics
last night.
I went upstairs
and read a poem.
This morning
I walk into the kitchen
and turn off a dripping faucet.
The furnace hums
to fight off a chill.
The calendar says spring
as if my life has just begun.
I go out for a leisurely drive
where the countryside
speaks to me.
I come back home
and make a quick brunch.
Words dancing in my head
cry out for me
to put them on a page
as the cat sits on my lap.
The roommate rolls to his side
saying, April’s the cruelest month
while I say the cruelest thing
is writer’s block.
A jet passing over a crown
of trees at the end of the street
streaks the sky.
The roommate talks about a movie
he watched in the middle of the night
and its philosophy.
Did you like it, I say
as a bird outside the window sings.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2025
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Mike Bayles Poem
She has the wind in her hair, winter, spring
summer, fall. The wind sings her name. Her
name is on the tip of the tongue. She is light.
She is a shadow in the back of the mind. She’ll
do anything for you for a song. She doesn’t
want to sing at karaoke, she wants to dance.
Her eyes are pools of water, hot-blooded
men tell her. She blushes and offers a wave.
She lives just down the street from everyone.
Older couples like to talk about her over coffee.
She is the salt of the earth, golden shafts of wheat
waving in wind. She walks her dog, and it sits
in front of you, wagging its tail. Doves circle
above her head. She gives me a book, and I read
between the lines. I hold her hand.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2013
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Mike Bayles Poem
The wind blows in May
and leaves on branches
dance as if they’ve found new life.
While seeking the light
of a season reborn
I ask
what must I remember
and what I must forget.
My past lives
lie in shadows
and whisper despair
anger of betrayals
anguished cries
of all that was lost,
and I ask
how can I make my peace.
The sun shines
on seedlings
such joy found
as they sway
in a soft breeze.
Such splendor found
when I walk among flowers
as they flourish
and I’m a child again.
May 2, 2023
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2023
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Mike Bayles Poem
You say hello in passing
and I come as promised
again and again, this poem
written with lines unsaid
sparrows gathered
outside the restaurant door
chattering among themselves
a December borne
the day fading, sky bleeding red.
We talk about seasons
brushing hands, and you say
the chicken tacos are good.
The patron next to me cheers
to the touchdown scored,
and a couple sits shoulder-to-shoulder
taking turns at a video game
while I look at you linger
growing more beautiful each day.
Yearning for the way to tell you more
I look for the right words
and as you walk back to the kitchen
we “high five” and smile.
The word friend’s not enough;
we've shared lives for two years
coming to each other in times of need.
Lights in the restaurant cast a neon glow
but I know somewhere stars explode.
Outside thick flakes drift and fall
and the parking lot glistens like a dream.
I linger for another moment, stay inside
where it’s warm, and look at your face.
You say, “See You next time, okay?”
Promises implied long for more.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2020
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Mike Bayles Poem
a sun-graced sky
whispers early day
a desire to fly
a sun-graced sky
unknown reasons why
the sun and moon play
a sun-graced sky
whispers early day
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2020
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Mike Bayles Poem
A woman’s voice said
Look out the window
and I saw a ravine
with a fresh cover
of snow.
I thought it was the neighbor
but I was alone.
A thicket of trees
reached for the sun
yet I noticed
one was fallen
its age born
in its rings.
Two cats lay on my bed
as I took in my visions
of a pastoral scene.
a day in February
in the middle of town.
In this moment
I bore my seasons
and winter called for spring
yet a patch of a lawn
had turned brown.
A woman’s voice said
Live, live again
as I faced another day.
Copyright © Mike Bayles | Year Posted 2025
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