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an old crinkled
black and white photo tells the story he’s an unsmiling 42 she’s a grim 21 after the war to end all wars she was faced with limited options options her age were obliterated in the fields of France now on the island called “the rock” she looks around finally forfeiting love for a sensible arrangement allowing her to survive
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two
young boys brothers race down the sidewalk in front of our house umbrella’s one blue one red waving in the wind yelling with pure joy as the cold november rain soaks them to the skin useless conversations roll around in my head
you’re not even here, but you know the flower is dead lightness of being filters through the maple trees red, yellow and green fluttering in the breeze doctors getting out of cars stroll to the door old people sit waiting not wanted any more traffic lights vibrate red, yellow and green people and cars flowing back and forth in a dirty urban scene school kids warehoused on the right, seniors warehoused on the left you know it’s only a two minute walk between youth and death red brick buildings keep them well hidden away as the rest of us busily fill up our days coffee grounds settle to the bottom of my cup river valley spawns life in the rich delta mud orange cranes on the horizon cut the sky like knives erecting castles to the paper God, you know its never enough old woman with brown spotted hands creeps across the street pumped up steroid boy hits his horn, you know he’s got a date to keep oily slippery streets as the patterns converge he hits his brakes much too late and another spirit emerges school kids warehoused on the right, seniors warehoused on the left you know it’s only a two minute walk between youth and death red brick buildings keep them well hidden away as the rest of us busily fill up our days long endless fields
of corn green upon green as far as the eye can see small patches of prairie persist some life, birds and flowers resist black ribbon stretches into infinity slicing the monoculture in two a dead deer in the ditch every 200 kms reminds us nature still roams here |
AuthorI started my "Poem-A-Day" writing exercise back in 2010. It was a way to get into the habit of writing everyday. It took awhile but once I got into it I really enjoyed the process. I took a break in 2023 to work on getting "Carbon Copy" into the wild. I also wanted to re-read my poem-a-day scribblings to see if there were any unpolished gems amongst the rubble. My plan is to post one per week in my Blog. Find "Carbon Copy" at: Archives
April 2025
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