The following poems were recently published. The title poem appeared in the 2023 edition of the Tennessee Voices anthology published by the Poetry Society of Tennessee.
Villanelle for the Didgeridoo
We all should try the didgeridoo.
With practice, I’m sure I could learn how to play.
It would make me happy. How about you?
With that honking noise, the birds all flew.
The upstairs neighbors have moved away.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
Uninvited guests are suddenly few.
Those who arrived have promised to pray.
It would make me happy. How about you?
New friends now say they love it for true.
They sit and listen with never a fray.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
With time, my musical repertoire grew.
I charmed a small dog, the neighborhood stray.
It would make me happy. How about you?
Broken, I quickly repaired it with glue.
I’d love to say more, but I cannot stay.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
It would make me happy. How about you?
The following poems previously appeared in the 2023 edition of the Mildred Haun Review.
Hearth and Home
My father banked a fire at night, so coal
burned in a furnace for our warmth, but gas
burned in my mother’s stove to cook our food.
No wood fire heated or cooked within our home,
but there was a time when hearth and home were one.
We’ll keep the home fires burning was a pledge.
To cook at the fireplace is a toil beyond
our modern thinking, but there comes a time
when I set out for the woods with my tent and pack.
I build a fire and sit on logs where
I cook my food in blue enamel pots
and watch the stars if the night is clear.
Come morning, I will blow upon the coals,
revive the fire upon my woodland hearth
and set the percolator on a grate above the flames.
Advice in Time of Plague
Do not Abandon all hope ye who enter here
nor let the weight of current events crush your soul.
Mourn what is lost, but not too long.
Crush the hurdle of despair and
the dark thoughts lurking there.
Pitch a tent near cool mountain streams.
Lay spoil to grim demeanor and resurrect hope.
Revel in the comedy of a fence lizard's display.
Delight in wild violets and trout lilies.
Never forget, you are called to live.
The Golden Hour
Under the swirling cosmic dust, the land
is covered by a tangle of branches.
Light from overhead won’t reach the ground.
But the hour comes when sun is going down
and the angle of the light illuminates
the forest outside my door.
The autumn leaves catch fire and blaze.
Translucent in red and gold they filter light
as clouds take on the color of the sun.
Lights come on in the town below.
The highway dreams of holiday decorations
and clouds turn dark against the nightmare sky.
Villanelle for the Didgeridoo
We all should try the didgeridoo.
With practice, I’m sure I could learn how to play.
It would make me happy. How about you?
With that honking noise, the birds all flew.
The upstairs neighbors have moved away.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
Uninvited guests are suddenly few.
Those who arrived have promised to pray.
It would make me happy. How about you?
New friends now say they love it for true.
They sit and listen with never a fray.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
With time, my musical repertoire grew.
I charmed a small dog, the neighborhood stray.
It would make me happy. How about you?
Broken, I quickly repaired it with glue.
I’d love to say more, but I cannot stay.
We all should try the didgeridoo.
It would make me happy. How about you?
The following poems previously appeared in the 2023 edition of the Mildred Haun Review.
Hearth and Home
My father banked a fire at night, so coal
burned in a furnace for our warmth, but gas
burned in my mother’s stove to cook our food.
No wood fire heated or cooked within our home,
but there was a time when hearth and home were one.
We’ll keep the home fires burning was a pledge.
To cook at the fireplace is a toil beyond
our modern thinking, but there comes a time
when I set out for the woods with my tent and pack.
I build a fire and sit on logs where
I cook my food in blue enamel pots
and watch the stars if the night is clear.
Come morning, I will blow upon the coals,
revive the fire upon my woodland hearth
and set the percolator on a grate above the flames.
Advice in Time of Plague
Do not Abandon all hope ye who enter here
nor let the weight of current events crush your soul.
Mourn what is lost, but not too long.
Crush the hurdle of despair and
the dark thoughts lurking there.
Pitch a tent near cool mountain streams.
Lay spoil to grim demeanor and resurrect hope.
Revel in the comedy of a fence lizard's display.
Delight in wild violets and trout lilies.
Never forget, you are called to live.
The Golden Hour
Under the swirling cosmic dust, the land
is covered by a tangle of branches.
Light from overhead won’t reach the ground.
But the hour comes when sun is going down
and the angle of the light illuminates
the forest outside my door.
The autumn leaves catch fire and blaze.
Translucent in red and gold they filter light
as clouds take on the color of the sun.
Lights come on in the town below.
The highway dreams of holiday decorations
and clouds turn dark against the nightmare sky.
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