This post first appeared on my substack publication,
https://rayzimmerman.substack.com.
In the natural world, time is cyclical. My latest book, It’s Just a Phase, includes several poems about cyclical events. The moon moves from a new moon through several phases to full. More phases take her back to the new moon. The Luna Moth lives in the adult phase for just a few days to mate and lay eggs which begin the cycle again. Trees shed leaves in the fall, but new leaves grow in spring. Life is in flux, and observations reveal just one phase of phenomena always in motion.
Walnut Street Publishing will launch It’s Just a Phase on November 1 at Clear Story Arts which is home to their office. The pre-launch sale will begin two weeks before the launch. Copies will be available on the Walnut Street Publishing website at that time.
Coming Appearances
I will present some storytelling at 6:30 PM on Saturday, October 19 at Audubon Acres in Chattanooga’s East Brainerd neighborhood. Check the Chattanooga Audubon Society website for details.
At 2:00 PM on Saturday, October 19 I will give a poetry reading at Reve Coffee and Books. This will be the last chance to get the remaining copies of Healing and Conflict, though I will likely print more next year. I will also read a few poems from the new book and make pre-sale information available.
Hawk Watching in Appalachia
My friend Bill Haley is watching hawks at his lookout this week as part of International Hawk Migration Week. Sometime soon, a large flight of Broad-winged Hawks will come down the Appalachian Mountains and spotters are watching for them at several locations along the way. I interviewed Bill and some other hawk watchers for the article “Counting Hawks.” It appeared in Appalachian Voice a few years ago and is still available online.
A Few Poems
I lived on Cape Cod from September 1986 through May 1987. Many years later, I wrote a few poems remembering that time. I am pleased to present a few Cape Cod Poems. These poems are previously unpublished.
Cape Cod Poems # 1 Escort (A Cascade Poem)
Why does a mother Right Whale need an escort?
Does the escort guard while a hungry calf nurses?
Does the escort lead her to better feeding grounds?
Does the escort watch while a tired mother rests?
A trio appeared on Cape Cod Bay.
Round backs parted waves as gracefully
as playful otters break the surface of a mountain pool.
Why does a mother Right Whale need an escort?
The calf circled two adults and waved its tail as
tourists waved, hollered, and snapped pictures,
the mother was unperturbed by the baby’s antics.
Does the escort guard while a hungry calf nurses?
Whale milk is thick with butterfat, thick enough
to be toxic for humans. Right whales make milk
from plankton, which they strain from gulps of water.
Does the escort lead her to better feeding grounds?
No one knows why the escort comes along.
The escort may be of either gender.
Perhaps presence is its purpose.
Does the escort watch while a tired mother rests?
Cape Cod Poems # 2
Fatal Popularity (Another Cascade Poem)
Humpbacks sank when killed; difficult to harvest.
Finbacks, greyhounds of the sea, outran boats.
Right Whales float when dead; the Right Whale to kill.
Where thousands swam, three hundred remain.
The tourists wanted Humpbacks,
leaping and lob tailing, as in the video,
appearing to breach just for them.
Humpbacks sank when killed; difficult to harvest.
A harpooned whale could pull the whaleboat under.
Sunken Humpbacks missed sharp flensing knives.
Still, many died to fuel the whale oil trade.
Finbacks, greyhounds of the sea, outran boats.
On Cape Cod Bay, a calf emerged,
huge, but smaller than the mother’s tail.
The whales easily floated, buoyant with blubber,
Right Whales float when dead, the Right Whale to kill.
Slow swimmers, easily retrieved, rendered
Right Whales hunted to near extinction,
for lamp oil, corset stays, and sailor’s pay.
Where thousands swam, three hundred remain.
Cape Cod Poems
#3 Facing Monomoy Island
Waves beside the seawall,
within the realm of fog,
revealed and then obscured the rocks.
Trees and flotsam suddenly appeared.
Only in sudden encounters will two predators
come face to face at such close range.
Mist framed a Harbor Seal with a dog-like head.
His round hunter’s eyes met my round eyes.
I noticed the whiskers on his broad face.
Did he notice my shaggy beard?
Before he disappeared beneath the waves
he seemed to give a start.
We stared a moment, man to seal,
or was it seal to man?
Cape Cod Poems #5 Drowning (A Villanelle)
They came ashore at Salt Pond ringed with sand,
The rescue efforts were surely doomed to fail
but no one knows why Pilot Whales must strand.
Pulled out to sea, they swim back onto land.
The rescuers braved choppy waves and hail.
They came ashore at Salt Pond ringed with sand.
The highest price, black market teeth command.
Cut jaws away, give poachers time in jail,
but no one knows why Pilot Whales must strand.
For safety, they hunt fish in family bands
with teeth and tactics like the Killer Whale.
They came ashore as Salt Pond ringed with sand.
One freezing worker was bitten on the hand
as on the shore, the beasts began to flail,
but no one knows why Pilot Whales must strand.
We found one, after five days not so grand,
turned back with gags, our faces surely pale.
They came ashore as Salt Pond ringed with sand,
but no one knew why Pilot Whales must strand.
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