Light a candle and place it in the wilderness, and you may find the candle again—but you will still be lost. Become a candle in the wilderness, and wherever you are is a right place to be. An aphorism on the Lee Side.
Irene's way was considered, by the cowboys she found in bars, to be both illiterate and effete.
When I was a boy, even into my late youth, all I saw from yard of Mother’s house were fields and scrubland pasture. We named the draw that came down out of the hills behind of the house, Main. The three major draws that emptied into it, we called First, Second and Third. Dad liked … Continue reading Naming the Places
Again, for today’s Ragtag Community Prompt, I turn to another poet who has spent time thinking about hewn and how the hewing examines precious. This poem by Maya Angelou is less about man’s action in hewing, than it is about the universal hewing that takes all life. In it we hear what we lose when … Continue reading “When Great Trees Fall” By Maya Angelou
Ike Dollings sat in the folding chair, his hat balanced on his knee, his face, a worked over canvas, sun washed and crevassed by sixty-five years under sun and weather, a face that showed among its cracks and weathering, evidence of wrong broncs mounted and other accidents any working rancher might find on almost any … Continue reading Brick’s and Lou’s Wedding
Again, today, I turn to Theodore Roethke to help me with the Ragtag Community Daily Prompt, "reckoning". Here is his Poem The Reckoning. I find particularly interesting the grammarage of the word "keep" in the last verse. It makes its subject plural--and so suggests that "lack" is a collective noun, that what we lack in our … Continue reading “The Reckoning” by Theodore Roethke
My contribution for the Ragtag Community prompt of the day, sleep, is not my own. It is a poem by one of my favorite poets of the mid twentieth century, Theodore Roethke. I share this villanelle from the Poetry Foundation (poetryfoundation.org). The Waking, by Theodore Roethke
It was a challenge for DeeDee And for Jim, her current squeeze, to get down to the birds and bees because when it came to please both insisted on Me Me.
DeeDee of the golden hair just wasn’t there and she was well matched to Jim who’s head, well thatched, also held what wasn’t there. Posted in response to the Ragtag Community Daily prompt: vacant. Apologies to the many "of golden hair" and "well thatched" heads who seek and who manage to fill the glory of … Continue reading All that Hair and Nothin’
What Winter said was so flagrant in its wrongness that Willow leaned away and gave a polite but windy cough. Clover crumpled up her bright face and green hands and turned rusty brown. Grass, like Willow, leaned away. Sheep huddled against the awful wind, turned their fleecy bums and ducked their heads and scurried off … Continue reading Fable of the Eternal Round