Deny It Not We are of the sea and of the caves, though time has rinsed us clean of these dim memories. Yet we still long to splash about, and explore dark spaces. Yes, we have forgotten whence we came, but our desperate thirst for water— our voracious appetite for meat— and our hideous capacity for violence— abate not.
You've Been A Fun Crowd Should i but read my poetry to neglected fields and tired fence posts i might be assured of a polite and attentive audience with soft murmurings of approval and spare grumbles of complaint.
Farmers' Market Little baby bunting Mother's gone a hunting for broccoli and garlic and onions and wine and cheese and bread and eggplant and ground beef and pasta and evoo. evoo, Mama? pay attention, Child. extra virgin olive oil.
Unanswered Prayer When i was a boy Mother insisted I attend Church each Sunday, though she never once stepped through the door. I occupied a pew beside my sisters, and thought about baseball, rocks, golf, fishing, and just about anything else but our Lord and Savior. One fine morn there was a special feature—a woman came from afar to play glorious music on her harp for all to hear. Wait a minute, I thought. Harp is a light Irish beer, and I'd much rather have a cold glass of it right now than her and that danged harp.
A Royal Flush Even when hidden, a pheasant is never a peasant; rather, in color and plumage, he is always a royal, regal and ready to fly his throne when betrayed, and the whirr of his flight will both startle and delight.
Red Hummingbirds and men are haunted by an irresistible attraction to the color Red, but Women have an uncanny, almost instinctive, ability to sort out the two.
No Chance Encounter, This The hall seethed. Movement. Noise, Teenagers herded between classes. He stepped in front of me, an adult out of place, white shirt and tie. Like me, he had two eyes, but one, rigid, stared sightless over my shoulder. His good eye, working for two, eyed mine. He minced no words. “I hear you can write.” He might as well have accused me of breathing. We all had been taught The ancient symbols of the alphabet— the letters, their shape, their sounds, the possible combinations. We’d learned together— See Jane run. See Spot jump. See Bob climb. Ten years had passed in the turning of a page— Nouns. Verbs. Adjectives. Sentences. Paragraphs. We all could write. I’d told no one I treasured the books. Only Mother knew. She’d confiscated the flashlight more than once. “My name is O’Sammon,” he said. “I teach the journalism elective.” “I’d like you to sign up.” “I think you’ll be good at it.” He’d singled me out of the herd. Someone had ratted me out. I did. I was. A one-eyed teacher made all the difference.
Unmerited Finery She said, "Open wide." I did. She said, "Close down." I did. Even though I'm barely the commoner, more so peasant or serf, she treated me as Royalty, placing a crown on an exhausted molar. "Thank you," I said, and hurried home to Buckinghorse Palace lest I be found out.
A Modest Request When I grow old and weary, legs all atremble, unable to walk far, and my garden— oh, the delightful colors, the delicate shapes, the delicious scents— when my garden is too far to see, then please, if you will, please bring my garden to me.
Hands Across The Water There is a powerful, unyielding force buried deep within men that will not abide a river, no matter its depth or rush, to separate humanity.
