Thursday, 11 February 2016 13:36

June Poems 2015

Written by
Rate this item
(0 votes)

1.

Abraham Lincoln

He was moved with compassion for the slaves

Declared the nation must choose slavery or

Freedom when none wanted to see the truth

He knew the choice could not be evaded —

 

Thoughtful and grave with a far-away gaze

Burdens settled on him so he became

The master of himself and of many

Hot-tempered men contesting Civil War —

 

The north fought to preserve union and law —

Not to free slaves — Lincoln understood the

Temper of his people knew not to waste

The slaughter of soldiers so he waited

 

Until emancipation could succeed —

He was the only one fit for the job.

 

Sadness troubled him

compassion moved him to lead

strength sustained him through

thousands of battlefield deaths

may he be honored always.

 

2.

As the years are accumulating the

Seasons are becoming precious to me

And in the transition from winter I

Watched the tips of trees begin to bud

 

And noticed the vulnerability

And the beseeching posture of the limbs

Rising up to the sun but now in the

Summer their forms are concealed within

 

Luxuriant foliage and I’m attuned

To the ascending and dissipating

Sound of the wind in the leaves just as if

The trees are sighing and I remember

 

These voices from childhood — resonating

Communicating succoring soothing.

 

The invisible

undulating in the trees

the inaudible

arising within the leaves

communicating soothing.

 

 

3.

Crossing a threshold and absorbing light

There’s a connection to be imagined

In a baby seeing swirls of color

And hearing startling and soothing sounds

 

Experiencing taste distinguishing

The warming power of a smiling face

A comforting voice with an embrace and

As leaves of the trees emerge and absorb

 

The light as the roots consume nutrients

From a thawing soil the tree will never

Know it’s a tree but when the gnawing of

Hunger comes the baby discovers how

 

To manipulate others by crying —

Nurturance arises magically.

 

Before the things of

the world acquire names there’s

no distinguishing

within a baby’s thinking

between inside and outside.

 

 

4.

George says hello with a quivering chirp

As I’m entering the room as he’s

Leaning his head on the piano leg

With his back legs sprawling as lazy as

 

Possible — a portrait of nonchalance —

He’s not a kitten anymore and not

A grown-up either as there’s not a thing

He does but eat and sleep but he knows my

 

Habits during the night and leads me to

The necessary room but he ambles

More slowly than I want to go so I

Slow down because I can’t get around him

 

Because George is large and doesn’t hurry

And I’m the one who’s being disciplined.

 

 

George hasn’t a mane

isn’t on the savanna

doesn’t have a pride

but he is brown and does have

a complacent majesty.

 

Read 1795 times Last modified on Thursday, 02 November 2017 16:47
Barry MacDonald

Editor & Publisher of the St. Croix Review.

www.stcroixreview.com
More in this category: « Summary for June 2015
Login to post comments