Disco grooved in my head upon waking,
a good omen of a day filled with
peanut butter pancakes,
deck sitting and my
baby coming home.
In the last week, I have awoken to Marley,
Simon & Garfunkel,
Neil Young-
Three Little Birds,
The Sound of Silence,
Helpless, Helpless, Helpless;
Each prescient of
the day to come.
If ever I needed proof that God
knows even the tiny sparrow, it is that
He knows I need a soundtrack.
Last year a fuzzy blanket, this year an amaryllis,
gifts to encourage my girls through the gray
so you can watch for spring
my card says.
The seed for all this, the solace
I took in watching the amaryllis unfold
in the kitchen as Ellen lay dying in the living room,
checking each day for what color would emerge,
finally one morning a shocking pink,
fresh as a new day and now, years later,
finding the hyacinth burst into blossom overnight
pink and hopeful on my breakfast table.
A Trilogy Number One *** Lost Love 0ne
From somewhere in the night
a bell rang.
And through the dark
the ringing of it
echoed across valleys
over hills
and into my mind.
For hearing it
reminded me of a time.
A time when thoughts were clear
and crisp
when my heartbeat
with love and understanding.
And the ringing grew clearer
stronger
I saw you standing
before me
in a cloud
naked
and soft
smiling at me.
My eyes
stained with ancient tears
widened at the sight.
The bell
that distant chime
continued to penetrate my memory
the darkness
could not absorb your glow.
I begged for your touch
but the cloud
the mist around you
the echoes of the ringing
the moans of my mind
the weeping of my tears
the tremble of my soul
only served to make the passion stronger
and
and then
you laughed…
you laughed at me
and my longing for you…
just as you always did.
The bell rang
and you died again.
Tony Sexton
The beep and flash routines are used to alert the user.
The beep sounds an audible alarm, if possible; otherwise it flashes the screen.
Flash flashes the screen, and if that is not possible, sounds the alert.
If neither is possible, nothing happens.
Nearly all have an audible alert, but only some can flash.
These functions are described in the Curses standard.
—
Found poem (erasure) from the Linux Man Pages. Complete text at:
https://man7.org/linux/man-pages/man3/beep.3x.html
The class of 2020
We were born
Around 9/11
And graduated
During COVID-19
We’ve had some
Bad luck
That has made us stronger
We are powerful
And will do world-changing
Things, in our future
We are living to the fullest
Because we have seen
First-hand that life,
Doesn’t always go as planned.
Today I graduated,
In a parade through
Our small town
This week I will get my diploma
In a drive-thru at my school
My family, friends, and community
Have made this so special,
I am grateful.
Congratulations class of 2020
Pine Mountain Cemetery XIII
Frances
You never know what a kid will pick up.
Ms. Frances over there next to him,
Mr. Sampson, her husband, threw open
A world for me so different, even my
Wild imagination could not conjure.
She smoked, shocking enough, but
More than that her cigarette perched
At the end of a long stick she swung
Around for emphasis and direction
As in “Pick up the book hand it to me”.
Did you know there were magazines
Mailed out named Opera News?
She gave me a load of them. Me who
Hadn’t the faintest clue about opera.
But when she really turned my head
Was with an entire set of Little Colonel
Books. She was kin to the Little Knight
Of Kentucky, if you can believe that.
Once a week a new one would be tucked
Under my arm, but only if the other came
Back in good order, those stories of her kin.
Mercy if I had that set today, I could set
Sail for a world tour, valuable I guess.
Then though priceless was the imaginary
Trip taken through those magic pages.
This was Harry Potter before J.K. was born.
Movies captured the child with dolls dressed.
Stars made their reputations, and we think
We have all the corner on marketing sales.
I hope she has lots to read resting on her cloud.
Frances, the only sophisticate I ever knew,
Childless, alcoholic I imagine, gravel voiced
Opened a world hidden to a mountain kid.
And this lonesome isolated women
Marked a path for adventures spread out
Far beyond the few years she had left.
(Inspired by Dan Beachy-Quick’s Variations on Dawn and Dusk)
If no one sinks, what is an ocean to do?
If no one thirsts, what is a river to do?
If no one burns, what is a fire to do?
If no one prays, what is a candle to do?
If no one is lost, what are the woods to do?
If no one meditates, what is a tree to do?
If no one sings, what is the storm to do?
If no one whispers, what is the wind to do?
If no one sharpens, what is the blade to do?
If no one steadies, what is an anvil to do?
How did you know when to find me
that moment you picked up your phone
and texted words that took 30 years to write?
EVERYTHING
Cards flipped from the deck; one by one – ace, spade, club
Cells combined to form that heart on my sleeve and in your pocket.
and NOTHING
Pentatonic chimes in the breeze; melodies untrained – C, D, E, G
A chance taken, confession spoken.
Did you need me?
Or did you know I needed you?
Caution thrown to where the wind carries us.
It all makes sense at the end even when the steps seem
RANDOM.
Before Mom’s suffering overwhelmed her,
she handed me a notepad
and requested I take her dictation.
She spoke only a sentence or two stating
how much she welcomed my help
throughout her life.
Years later, when only howls and
death wishes remained, I was less
helpful.
