Dear John

Moving on, pause for coffee
Been out of the Navy a long time, moving on
Don’t really have a place to be
Moving on, pause for coffee
Seen a lot a long time ago in the Navy
Maybe I saw too much — better gone
Moving on, pause for coffee
Been out of the Navy a long time moving on.

This poem was written for Poets Rally, Week 50.

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Spring Rain

Down come gentle drops
Sprinkling the soil, wetting
Leaves lifted
Up — sky’s gift
Falling on eager
Laughing child.

My Poetry Rally entry.

Thieves (expanded)

Before white men roamed these round hills
Before horses came and wheels cut the grass
Before the sod-buster and plow,
This land was meant for another people.

In the old land, east of here,
Food was scarce and beliefs oppressed
My kin came here — a fresh start.
I cannot leave — there’s nowhere else.

The red ones miss me like fish miss water
How can they have joy when dignity is gone?
I didn’t choose to be born here
I own this land — I belong now.

Thief, whispers the land. You do not belong.
I will not leave.

I posted an earlier version of this last week. This version is for Poetry Rally.

Lovely Awards for Me

I just want to do a quick post and let you all know about some really cute awards I have gotten this week.

First up, The Stylish Blogger Award. Thank you to Jackie Paulson who gave it to me:

I’m supposed to tell you 7 things about myself and choose more bloggers to receive the award. I’m not very good at these things, so may I refer you to the two posts above for the 7 things most people don’t know and bloggers who inspire me.

And, I have gotten a whole slew of pretty pictures to share with all of you because I participated in Poetry Rally last week.

Interstate

Diamonds on the road
Flow down the asphalt
Trading partners,
Dancing down the distances

Flow down the asphalt
Passing time with competition
Dancing down the distances
Finessing the interstices

Passing time with competition
Merging boundaries
Finessing the interstices
Creating beautiful patterns.

Merging boundaries
Trading partners
Creating beautiful patterns,
Diamonds on the road.

Untitled

White-capped
Peaks, rising high
Above the grimy spring
Streets, seen at the end of the road
Like a mirage towering into the
Blue desert sky. Rise from the busy
Day and rest in glory
With the mountains,
White-capped.

I won Perfect Poet Award at Poetry Rally!

I nominate Belfast David for next time.

Winter in the Cemetary

The snow falls down, drifting softly over
Graves and grass, trees and crosses, covering
The ache in a cold blanket of whiteness.
The dead don’t care, and the living forget.

This poem is for Monday Poetry Potluck, and also to accept my Perfect Poet Award from last week’s Poetry Rally. I nominate mairmusic for next rally.

I also want to accept the following awards from Jingle:

Thank you, Jingle!

Sing of Living, Sing of Dying

Songs of ancestors echo
Voices of the dead and people echo
Call and response – answer and question
Telling the stories of memory

Voices of the dead and people mingle
We are who you will be
Telling the stories of memory
Carrying your lives into the dark future

Telling the stories of memory
We are now what we will be
Voices of the dead and people mingle
Tell us who you were that we may remember

We are who you will be
Sing us through the ages
Carrying our lives into the dark future
A sacred responsibility

We are now what we will be
Do this in memory of us
Tell us who you were that we may remember
We are your voices, do not forget us

Call and response – answer and question
Sing us through the ages
Songs of ancestors echo
Do this in memory of us

Posted for Thursday Poetry Rally

Poetry Rally Awards

Thank you Jingle, and thank you everyone who comes and reads my poetry here! It means a lot to me.

To Willa Cather

Quiet, peaceful writing
Flows across the page,
Telling stories.

Across the prairie,
Down the years,
Quiet, peaceful writing

Takes us into Jim’s world
Calm days, terrible events,
Flowing across the page.

I should be content
If I wrote like this,
Telling stories.

This poem is for Thursday Poetry Rally. I just finished My Antonia, by Willa Cather.

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