Doug Tanoury

I must have missed his passing
He comes to no more
Sunday

Dinners there was a whirlwind
And then no him no
Gray

Bearded framing a ready smile
No comic no relief
No high

Pitched laughter in the
Aftermath of
Quicker

Than the eye illusions I feel
His absence the hand
On my

Shoulder is gone I did not see
It pull away but felt it
Go and

Am left wondering how long until
We eat like Arabs again
Dipping

Fingers into a communal dish set
Between us on the
Table


Copyright 1986, Doug Tanoury

     *      *      *

Sleepwalking

Footsteps echoing
Down dim-lit halls,
As dreams walk with
Steel-cleated heels
Across terrazzo floors
On the mezzanine
Of consciousness.


Copyright 1989, Doug Tanoury


Doug Tanoury grew up in Detroit and still lives in the area with his wife and three children. Doug
has been published in Writer's Digest, Ego Flights, and Alura Quarterly. On-line publications
include Spectrum Press, realpoetik, the Bridge, and Sour Grapes.