Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Poet's Corner

Hello

I’ve heard hello like a whisper half out of its holster. Snow says it that way. Bells go crazy with it, driving pigeons out of the steeple. Hello, hello, I do, I do. Watching our beautiful neighbor go by in snow...

Florida

By John Eisner   I think it began in the Keys, the night I hurried onto the dunes in search of my sleepwalking brother. the stars were as common and remote as freezer frost sharks in boy scout...

Poem: Chappy Ferry

By Nan Byrne The little boat goes back and forth A steadfast engine against the tide Shuttling industry from dock to dock In darkness and in light The Captain’s granite shape in mist Upon the open deck stands fast As...

Cold Gift

By Annette Sandrock friendly eyes empathize evaluate separate terminate clean the slate time is slowing it's too late stressful step crawling's best fever-laden sickly maiden eat to heal dwindling food morsels tasteless not in the mood hardly enough productive cough sweat from thought drugs are bought heavy chest painful swallow need to rest wait for tomorrow chores undone troubled ears texting's...

Poem: Autumn on the Vineyard

Airbeds asleep ’til summer ’17. Sandy floors swept. Outdoor showers sigh in relief. Harried drivers disappear. Car horns cease their sting. Hibiscus and cosmos sport late blooms but Autumn daisies and sedum reign supreme. A patter of acorns heralds...

Leaving the Cottage

By Margaret Emerson Out the window time slows gracefully slanted autumn light waltzes across the yard Fewer bird species gather at the feeder or wall seeded by David every sunrise before biking to coffee blueberry muffin USA Today Days shorter less to do visitors thinning clothes thickening In spite of the...

The Emergence of Fall

By the Supportive Daycare Program Summer and its nice warm days leave — Cool, crisp days of fall arrive Deep blue skies of October, Crispness Apples, falling leaves Halloween is coming. Dad says, "Let's get a pumpkin!" Apple cider — the smell...

Poet’s Corner

in a wood / where nobody goes By Jill Jupen   in a wood / where nobody goes* You will come to it (to borrow a phrase).   You can do something forever. I did it once.   I mean, that happens.   The Archbishop of Anarchy. The poet and what he has...

Emulating the Bodhisattva

By Lee H. McCormack To have nothing, or desire it to be, or to be in a place where nothing is, is the game of blind old monks. How some friends and family come to a similar...

O Lantern of Jack

By Linda Freedman The pumpkins are now waiting to be picked Big and orange and very round and thick Thinking of Linus in his pumpkin patch Carving and scooping and lighting the match With its glow and scary grin Waiting...

Poet’s Corner

The Derby   Fickle flock fled far Beaches beckon bare Locals liberate Balmy breezes blare Boats becalm before Solar silence sates Fated fish fend free Anxious angler awaits Harbor hut hues hope Seashore surf sublime Rods refreshly real Down to derby time! — Rachel Alpert Rachel Alpert i­­­s a...

Poet’s Corner: Home to Martha’s Vineyard

By Margaret Emerson a twenty-five blow gusting to forty cancels five ferries terminal flags snap against murky winter sky still we drive to dockside park in row two watch the great iron carrier force through the channel then open mouth wide to roll out her holdings never...

Poet’s Corner: Just Sweet Enough

By Kristen G. Norman     If your life Had been A full pie — native berry Or even A spongy cake It was Cut in half Yet, that life was full Have to remember Such; and recall it Sweet native berry, Delightful one Sure glad...

Poet’s Corner: The News

By Jeffrey Agnoli   The river of News that we enter daily maddens and saddens but as its waters swim through us can sometimes gladden. There are random flowers of kindness and sacrifice and benevolence (nothing, of course, is really random) blooming everywhere across Fear's...

Poets corner: Whimsy

By Jim Lowell   The Turnabouts are flying in a breeze, Tacking their way to listless moorings. My son is at the tiller of his youth, Racing Whimsy past imagined rivals. The sense of fall is on the water...

Poet’s Corner: Small Craft Warning

By James Lowell Gust knocks are gathering for a blow where boats tug at their moorings, gulls become sea hawks in the upwell. I hold the suicide knob on my Edson wheel of my Everglades, heading to my piling...

Poet’s Corner

The Window By Jill Jupen The window in the old house looked out and saw everything the window had ever seen. The day the wind blew down the poplar the window loved to watch, the poplar whose leaves danced like silver coins...

Poet's Corner

The Poet’s Cauldron By Lenny Hall A sea soup of letters Hard boiled into inky symbols Apothic magical work sorcery A sensory amalgam of mind-altering fare The porridge of emotions Spells and potions The black magic of human thoughts Melodic pharmacology Stirring — whirling...

Poet's Corner: Real March Madness

By Elaine Boettcher The cold and bitter winds of March encased in ice the cherry blossoms snapped the wildly waving limbs of black and brittle trees, hurled shingles from the trembling shed, smack-crashed the kitchen window Listen to its moans and...

Poet's Corner

Crows Gather Each Morning like Cambodian Elders By Jill Jupen Early each morning the crows gather around and take turns cawing at each other like the Cambodian refugees used to gather in a tiny Vermont village squatting in a semicircle cawing loudly in turn discussing the...