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THE FARTHERMOST VIEW

Selected Podpieces

Poetry Sunday, WCAI

 

 

ABOVE WRIGHT'S FIELD, IN WINTER

 

Two red-tails fly together in the broken light
that strikes the white oaks gold this wind-scoured winter day.
It is the dive toward earth that drives their joyous flight.

 

As afternoon sinks swiftly toward the ragged night
and sharper, meaner winds begin to mock the way
the red-tails fly together in the broken light,

 

a raven rasps above the pallid field where Wright's
three cows trudge single-minded toward a yellow spill of hay.
It is the dive toward earth that drives their joyous flight.

 

They cruise in synchrony, then crack their wings back tight
and plummet toward the indifferent cows; but always
kite at last, to fly together in the broken light.

 

Above the western hogback, lofting clouds ignite
with shards of sun that drape the fading hills in gray.
It is the dive toward earth that drives joy into flight.

 

To plunge, then suddenly erupt, must be the height
of rapture when passion is the prey.
Two red-tails fly together in the broken light.
It is the dive toward earth that drives their joyous flight.

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WATCHING WILDLIFE

One day in mid-May, five baby Eastern gray squirrels erupted from a hole in the big white oak in my back yard and took on the not-so-difficult task of entertaining us. All day they scampered, clung, jumped, clambered, scritched, climbed, clawed, bumped, clumped, huddled, and pestered – but they never left the big oak. Read More 

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MARCH COYOTES

On one side of our yard a wooden fence blocks the view, but at the north end between that fence and the neighbor's garden shed is a gap where we can see right into their yard. One March day in between storms I was standing at the kitchen sink when I happened to look out the window just as a coyote trotted past the gap and disappeared behind the fence. Read More 

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BREAKFAST CEREAL

Starting to write an essay, or a poem, or a short story, is like going shopping with the whole world as your marketplace.

It's like the cereal aisle: a mile-long aisle six shelves high filled with brightly colored boxes, and you walk slowly along reading the similar-sounding names of the cereals. All bran, Multi bran, Multibran flakes, all bran grains. Deciding among 200 kinds of cereal is daunting and even anxiogenic.

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NAMING THE DEAD

It's funny, isn't it, how people often get nervous about saying the name of a recently dead person. When we run into a widow, or a newly-orphaned adult, or a parent whose child has died, we'll say, “How are you doing? I'm so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?”  Read More 
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