Friday, March 22, 2013

a seasonal offering

The first poem is a timely one because 'tis the season, and I have included the second one for being the first's equinoctial companion.  For their simplicity and precision (if I may humbly congratulate myself), I am often jealous of these poems when I look back at them and I try to emulate the effect as often as possible though mostly without success. 


My family at church,
I watch the birds again.
How they flick millet
and thistle, hunting
sunflower seeds.
Chipmunks forage
under the azaleas.
The maple leaves
are splayed and jazzing.
Everything moves—
Grows through loam,
Flies and feeds.
I should join in.
Find crannies
For the candy eggs,
Filth my fingernails
Unearthing weeds.
Anything but this:
Sun-shy on the deck,
Watching from my
reach, retreat, reach, retreat
waiting for the bells
so I can close
my eyes and sing.

(first published in Steam Ticket, v. XIV, spring 2011)

Jacket Pockets

Autumn is a time to feel things in our jackets we haven’t felt
            For at least a year—
The folded five
And the coffee shop receipt,
The peppermint in plastic
And the crumpled reminder to self—
When, from the warmth of pockets, we hear the crackle
Of a dead leaf
And feel its dusty bones.

(first published in Muse and Stone, Summer 2011)

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