Where You’ll Find Him
everywhere
in vast spaces
inside the flood wall
under the train trestle
on a bicycle riding
the streets of Paducah
crowded in a bed with siblings
joining up (with the scouts)
always near
the banks of the Ohio
then far away in the Blue
Ridge with Father Judge
kneeling in a pew of belief
on a mountain seeing everything
down the hatch of college
swimming in waves of prepositions
in a house with bovine windows
walking stumbly fields
holding the hands of children
in a classroom in a school in a cow pasture
living in the lane of Know-It-All
then broken like a dropped plate
tipped over in a smashed rocker
hearing the voices of offspring
in a barn where she dances with love
gardening like mad
sleeping in cornfields
to keep the deer away
on the road to shows
in a place where writing occurs
drinking from the spring
of further offspring
on the path to slow down
sitting with comrades on Fridays
in front of Lil’ Jumbos
reading the pages of wordsmiths
leaning in to hear what you said
squinting to see what you have
holding a dish of nonsense
bending down to the force of time
hobbling on cobblestone
outside the floodwall
in a narrowing hall
nowhere
6 thoughts on "Where You’ll Find Him"
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neat way the places are sandwiched by “somewhere” and “nowhere.” somewhat of a turning point after “broken like a dropped plate / tipped over in a smashed rocker.” perhaps an unravelling
Jim, I love this poem so much. I like how you take ownership of everything, how you go through time.
wonderful. especially appreciate the last 5 lines
but you can’t beat “holding a dish of nonsense”
This reminds me of Tom Joad’s speech in The Grapes of Wrath. Your version is a lot ghostlier, and a lot less sentimental.
Thank you Jim. I found him in seeds and stems in a field outside of DC, and daily if I bother to see I find them in everything.
I like all the movement in this poem, Jim.