top of page

An Apology for Living


John Grey

I apologize for all that I disturb

when I'm out walking.

Sorry, flock of starlings.

for interrupting your feast.

I regret, young German Shepherd,

that my presence set you off barking.

I’m a most repentant man

when it comes to the grass I trample,

the flowers I brush aside,

the sidewalk cement that

takes the full weight of me

and the glass storefront

that must endure a wretched, forlorn breath.

And people, don't get me started on people.

All of my remorse goes out to

the strangers who must step aside,

disrupt their pleasant thoughts

for a moment or two

of pavement traffic cop.

And, worse still, is when I come across

someone I know.

Add the time for acknowledgement,

for talk, worse still, for later arrangements,

to the great act of contrition:

me being in their life.

Would you believe some even love me.

They even love the poor example I set.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Red Weather. Latest books, “Covert” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the McNeese Review, Rathalla Review and Open Ceilings.

John Grey
John Grey
Share on:
You might also like:

The Seagull


Behind The Cover

Interview with Avni Doshi

Woodchucks without Sense

Moonbone & Maybees

bottom of page