Greg Huteson

Frequency Table

Mostly the dog doesn’t trip on the stone-strewn field.
Mostly the bittern minds its own anchorite ways.
Mostly the child with dust in her eyes doesn’t cry.

Always the one on the bike holds a parcel close.
Always the garbage truck turns the corner at six.
Always the lithesome sun tags the last window square.

Seldom the swing in the park sways later than that.
Seldom the scooter halts at the stunted lane’s light.
Seldom the cat attends to the ghost’s harried air.

Never the gecko stalks across the breeze-swept floor.
Never the moon rashly dodges the scudding clouds.
Never the chimes cease, the solemn bells of green bronze.

Greg Huteson’s poems have recently appeared in THINK, the Alabama
Literary Review, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Better Than Starbucks, and
Trinity House Review, and his chapbook, These Unblessed Days, is
forthcoming from Kelsay Books. He lives in Taiwan.