Sandhill Song
High above and far away
I heard the faint beginning
of a song
Circling ever so slowly
As if awaiting me
They lifted northward
Leaving me
With their song
Monday, January 13, 2025
A wish
A wish
I know not who she was. We only passed twice upon the beach. We stopped and spoke about the man up the beach in a bathing suit in the freezing surf doing yoga and shadow boxing and swimming. She walked a long way north. I went up to the second floor to the deck. Returning, she abruptly stopped, turned her back to the ocean and threw something over her left shoulder. If it was a wish for a better future, I trust it included all of us. There is not enough salt in the ocean for that wish.
And he walked with me
Southern Living
The conversation
Madison
“And he walked with me”
“And he talked with me”
“And he told me I was his own”
And the joy they shared, as they tarried there,
None other has ever known.
Wild Nights
Wild Nights-Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile-the Winds-
To a Heart in port-
Done with the Compass-
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden-
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor-Tonight-
In Thee!
Emily Dickinson
Shrimpers off Crescent
Sunday, January 12, 2025
Midway shade
Midway Shade
Johnclarestokes
Great, great grandpa was patient with
Great, great grandma's complaint
There was no shade in Midway
Every tree went to cordwood stacked highly
To stave the icy winter shadows long slant.
It was in the long slant great, great grandpa
Planted the Camphor
Great, great grandma was pleased
She'd have summer shade, eventually
Rocking in the long slant hymn humming
It was great grandma who told great grandpa
Impatiently
When are you going to fell the Camphor
The long slant of winter gives me shivers
And great grandpa would promise, eventually.
It was grandma who told grandpa wistfully
Do you recall Midway before the shade
Of all the promises in winters slant made
And grandpa would rock and nod, silently
It was pa who in the Spring came visiting
This is where once in cold slant I played
Before in Midway the promise was made
Ma just stood under the Camphor, agreeing.
And so in the winter I came with my bride
The Camphor towering over the home place
And the bride saw the long slant upon my face
Of promises made and promises that died
Eventually.
Midway Shade
Hydrangea for the pioneers
Hydrangeas for the pioneers
Johnclarestokes
The pioneers of Price Creek
have long since in their planting
tilling
toiling
Scraping some living
resting from being
Wary of the Indian
Going off to help Finegan
stave the Ocean Pond
Invasion
amid the carved stones
One by one
We plant for them
reminders of home
petal portals
upon the thresholds eternal.
katie
Katie
Johnclarestokes
Perhaps I have met a living poet
Katie I once visited every Sunday
We called her group the R word
Before everyone became a bit
challenged with special needs
But Katie was the one person
who ever loved my three chord
Guitar playing
Or the harmonica serenade
For sane ears not made
Katie at one Christmas party
Gave me a handwritten
Bound book of poems she
Painstakingly penned
in all caps it seemed
And in the years ensuing
And all the moving
The little book of simple poems
Went missing
And we quit going to Garden Park
On Sundays
And Katie I’m sure kept on
With her poems
I trust someone came into her
Life again
She could side up to and
Say, I just LOVE you.
Tell me
Tell me
John Clare Stokes
Over me
silently came the
Osprey
tell me
of the sky
of the sea
of earthly
mystery
tell me
said he
of the eye
of the beauty
of earthly
artistry
Tell me
Ciardi
ciardi
johnclarestokes
I’ve yet to truly meet a living poet
Once I went to hear ciardi read
Especially the one of the scalpel
Or the knife
To cut and kill
Or to cut and heal
But mostly I’ve just read
And wondered how
The words they wrote
My spirit could cut, kill
And heal all at the same time.
Friday, January 10, 2025
Has God forgotten
Day into day
Night into night
We wait for a sign
Perhaps today the sojourn
Perhaps today the arrival
A word from afar
A hope quite close
Are all the paths destroyed
Do all the watchmen sleep
Cold grows the land
Quiet goes the man
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