Peter Makuck: Winter Morning
At the window,
coffee in hand,
I’m just in time to see
a painted bunting
settle on the porch feeder.
Peter Makuck: A Shot in the Dark
Gino Vendetti was nursing a sweaty bottle of Bud. Four ceiling fans along the bar spread the cigarette smoke and a faint odor of beer. Always a few guys from the old high school gang were here. Most had something going. Not Gino. It had been almost two years since Viet Nam…
Peter Makuck: Out and Back
Probably my tenth trip to the front window in an hour. I’m looking at the yard, cellphone in hand, getting footage of my neighbor’s German Shepherd. He crosses the street, trots up … Continue reading
Peter Makuck: Day on the River
It was during Christmas vacation that I first met Mr. Talbot. His son, Jean-Luc, was my good friend and classmate at a small Franciscan college in a French-Canadian enclave in … Continue reading
Peter Makuck: Triggers
That look on his face. After all these years, I’d love to punch him again.
Peter Makuck: Recycled (corrected version)
His girlfriend sat in the car. The other cop was at the passenger door, probably shouting for her to exit the vehicle with your hands above your head where I can see them. I watch too many “Law and Order” reruns.
Peter Makuck: Two Poems
Every summer day was the last I thought,
even before my parents were gone
Peter Makuck: Two Poems
Mockingbirds converse
With a catchy song outside
My study window
Peter Makuck: Seniors
mocking with an ache
that comes with leafdrop, woodsmoke,
and those shots of bourbon that ease
not a thing
Peter Makuck: Grackles
But after a few minutes
they become bold and
like dark thoughts
return
Peter Makuck: After Work
I’m sorry,she said, but you look
just like my father. He died last month.
She found her cellphone
and showed me a photo that looked
as if I’d taken a selfie.
Vox Populi 