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Poem

Room at Dawn

I awake as light spills in

hear water-splash against the sink

and imagine your attention

to your face, lathered, trimmed

of last night’s darkened growth.

I curl around my pillows

draw yours closer, listen as

your wing-tip shoes brush soft

against the plush of carpet.

“Morning sleepy head,” you say

and lean to kiss my lips as I

rush a smile into your

wide embrace, press my palm

into you’re your tie, yellow silk,

smooth as your cheek on mine.

Ready for your morning meeting, yet

you’re not moving toward the door...

And later when you’re late and gone

I think that if I have a million

days and ten million nights

I will still want more of you

Feel forever, yellow on my skin.

poem

Third Grade

The ring-a-ling resounded, announced
commencement of the day and
cessation of their conversations, time
for the repeated early morning ritual.

Past the sound resolving in the air
and the scraping of the teacher’s chair
as Ms Sparks rose to lead her children
in the pledge of their allegiance to
the flag, there was a silence --
connecting
them to what had come before, to
what brought them in from the cars
the buses, or their own two feet padding
down the streets and up the final rise
of hill to doors opening into dusted
hallways and their desk filled room
where
no one spoke a word or coughed or even
thought to poke his neighbor now
but stood silent, ready to recite
imagining every other child in every
school across the land and around the
world standing through this time, their
imaginations big with pride and words
they were only learning then
like liberty
and speaking out, and being counted, maybe
sitting in and pinching pennies to be thrifty
drawing ever nearer to a bigger word
like patriotic
with its magic musical conclusion
sung into the humming air
of morning unison.

Poem

Deep Waters

the two who had not, until

that morning, faced much of a challenge

in their seven years, passed so fast

from hello until this day, three months beyond

surgery to make his heart whole, pump smooth

and now this interruption, stoppage in the brain

driven by the ambulance into wakeful panic

delivered through the night to unfamiliar days and years

the two draw sustenance from their well of promises

Poem

Mother's Day Pearls

Warming
Stove turned to bake
Mother’s floured hands pat and stuff
Apricot pies
Fragrant

You sit
In the bleachers
Bundled warm against cold
Watch as we twirl, march on the field
So Proud

You hold
The wheel, driving
Everywhere a child goes
You know the precise direction
Steering

In your
Hands a Bible
You read aloud, show us
What it means to think beyond, lift
Prayers

You two
Work unified
Raising girls or cooking
Kneading kindness, soft words between
Lovers

You, home
Tranquil, alone
Listening on the phone
Savoring each girl’s voice speaking
“Mother”


I sit
Distant, smiling
Missing nothing today
Memories of Mother, talking
Pleasure

Poem

Home Place

two block sufficiency, that corner

centered in his grass, the red brick house

shaded by the shelter, his great water oak

supported by words spoken soft, their style

nourished from their garden by his love of cooking

sweetened by her pies, apricot and lemon specialties

taught by life lived in sight of a sustaining view

delivered to ourselves in the presence of clear faith

two block sufficiency, that corner

Poem

Passed

The tall grasses
fluid in the morning breath
are gone
mowed down
while I slept
or wrote
or failed to walk
the afternoon gone to dusk so fast
yesterday
irretrievable
today
this barren hillside
that secured the pond
once sheltered two lithe fawns
a white-tailed rabbit
and a host of crickets.
This shimmering field
that lifted finches to their song
charming snake and lizard on their slither
this embankment
now left to hold alone
against the press of water
wanting to escape
empty into beyond
not stay
where the comfort of companionship
had been wiped clear
by rotational stroking
stripping life and sound
leaving
only stubble and this
awful silence.

Poem

Release

I uncurl my fist
and watch years drop
slow and soft
my view of you
drifting
with each current
rearranging more than
air and skin

I uncurled my fist
in the midst of
love
ever present
smiled

Poem

Fall Treat

In the din
of ferment
fruitcakes bask
insidious rum
faint and subtle
seeps slowly
filling damp
dark space
swelling cake
inflection sweet
this juicy
fall
indulgence

poem

Hello Chicago

There in that city
Standing tall
Rounding corners on our way
To everywhere we had never
Known before we failed
To extinguish all that
Fire beneath our skin.

There it began and
Never ended
Not even after all the cities
On the tour of years and tears
Our resurrected recollections
Buried, live forever
Aglow, without regard for
The future, the wind, or wonder
Always the other in our skin.

Hello Chicago

Poem

Dreaming Solace

In the back woods of the sleepy bed
where silk sheeted solace waits unborn
downed pillows dream uncovered, bemoan
their paired duality and doubled monotone
there is a trace of place some say was lent

In the back woods of the sleepy dream
where lent enters unbidden, waits unborn
downed pillows dozily dream uncovered loan
in paired duality and doubled rhythmic monotone
there etches sketch the images of magic musing

For succor finds provision in this wooded place
the resting sustenance pressing coming day
dozily places trace themselves some say
to expose the wonder in the power sought
of time beyond the day and years and cloth

Woven treasure, silk spun lengths of lightness
over weathered wooden sleepers under stress
letting go, traced place erased, making space
feathers falling energized and weightless
going now alone, no wind needed for this chase

Through velvet dreaming smoothing out
entanglements of thought once caught
snagged and lost in spite of what was sought
until weariness won relief in down drenched
dreams restoring in and through the core

As snores ascend the ache of place and trace
a new beat multiplier harmonizes time and
rhythm, unifying and uncovering what has grown
no longer loaned but owned inside the chromosome
building quilted comforters, two selves now known

janepenlandhoover

Poem

Beneath

There, just beneath the shadow

Of the ancient arching bridge

We met, all the forces chasing

Rushing us toward

Imagined shelter

Where we might dig in

Pretend

Defending

An older stance

Given up, replaced with

Some position mightier

Than fighting off

Surrender

When the pounding rhythms of

Fierce scheming rose

Drew near our shadowed space

We’d touch

And hold

Steal one last look before

Release

Then close our lids and disappear

Become breath climbing

That curving space

Beneath the arch

We Two

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Uninterrupted

It was

same old too tired

night till I awoke at

six instead of usual three.

Imagining enough

I stood right up

refreshed

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

The Mystery of Space

Our home was brand new

That March day we moved

Into so much spaciousness

Only our bedroom full

Early couple acquisition.

We thought we had it all

Did until seven Februarys

Later, stroke turned us in

Covering our wealth of plans

Then locked the door to

All that once had been

Leaving us, a new day

Unknown, unthinkable,

This new state, me standing

Him unable, no walking

Speaking, only chaos

Swirling round, thickening

Mess of meaning breaking

.

We’d have to fight some

Fancy dragons, gain again

Our treasure, refuse to embrace

This nightmare’s terror

Escape somehow, crawl and crawl

Pull each other from beneath

The weight, effect one step

Awakening each day to

Desperation, overwhelming

The unspeakable disconnection

Of engaging

Rearranging

Home and work

That wealth of plans

Until

One September day

All done, dragons mostly tamed

Forty years

Of much more than wandering

Though that too

All through

We moved into a smaller home

Made spacious by what was let go

And

New days coming

One and then another.

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Union

Left, right
we walk along
in what once eluded
unconscious of our brilliance
what actually happened long ago
between
what I let go
what he received
ascertained so clear
always and forever say
“Stay here”

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

At Six

I overheard the neighbored reprimand my Dad,
“Those kids playing there
will ruin your fine lawn,” he said.
I watched my dad’s laugh resolve misplaced concern
“Bill, we’re not growing
grass, we’re raising girls.”
I didn’t hear what followed only knew that I stood taller
Us there, in the shadow of
my Dad’s big oak tree
my bare feet stained comfort
me, at six

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Mortality
The day held by the regularity
of minutes, one following the other
none retreating or competing
only constant motion
round and round
until the crash
broadcast
the giant cedar had been struck
and was falling down and down.

None of those surrounding
could impede enough
arrest the loss of this one
now vacating its ground
anchored there so long, now
exposing the midnight sky
above
the forest floor holding
this one that would not see the
the lake-blue sky of morning
light coming with the dawn
to grow those still standing, their
time not finished running down.

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Leaving WillowWood Cove:

Adieu

Holding hands we lingered,

watched the big rig make its move

through shadows, round the curve

toward our new dwelling,

distant from this time,

this sheltered cove, this pasture

where ten Holsteins graze

unaware of our goodbye

whispered

to all of them:

the long great blue,

beavers in their den,

mud turtles lounging on the log,

fat geese honking as they splash to flight,

leave waters rubbing at the shore

once ours.

Light running low,

we squeeze hands tight before

we release our hold

to go.

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

What if...

…it’s all too big

too much to say --

what they

have meant to me?

…I can’t describe

just right, those gifts

they each gave me?

… I say it wrong --

my understanding

muddled or mismatched?

What If…

…they are hurt or angered

by the words I say

or the ones I don’t?

…they are touched

inspired, have found

a burden lightened?

… a laugh erupts

as they read

recall forgotten moments?

What if there is only silence?

Are we then safe or just alone?

What if life goes on and on

changing, rising, turning

breaking us wide open

and words

are

our beginning?

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Double Doused

nothing now

between blues

except empty

simple space

Air

vile volume

mean measure

After

lost laughter

dead dreams

gone games

forever famished

nothing now

Poem

(From: Beyond the Reach of Shadow)

Firelight

indescribable joy

sitting inside by a warm crackling fire

in time before time

in another world previous

sitting within the circle of vision

not yet extended

not yet apprehended

nor amended

we sit

soft music, candles, and a cup of hot tea

caught between love and reality

content and unspent

red orange the heat, indescribable fire

blue flamed sensations, such solace

the moments secured

before aphasia strangled

before insanity grounded

hobbled

implanted its frozen expanse

unbreakable

except when remembering

former years

too brief

moments almost never known

two lighting the night

their fuel sufficient