Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

The long uphill walk

July 28, 2019

Old lawn chairs at the lake
Circa 1946, after the war
Steel
Heavy, very heavy
Yet very comfortable

A reminder of my parents
Those chairs, their chairs
Brought to this cabin
For their 50s
Summer home

During the walk from the lakeshore
The long uphill walk
Midway from the lake to the cabin
Those chairs
A welcome respite

Sometimes I imagine
Mom and Dad
Sitting in those chairs
At night, overlooking the lake
Bathed in starlight

Their ashes are nearby

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Eternity at arm’s length

April 25, 2019

 

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We have explored
Looking for, searching for
Meaning amidst the stars
Millions of light years away
Or by stepping out the front door
In early spring

©2019 Thomas W. Cummins

 

Powell Hall

March 29, 2019

We’ve been going there since the late 60s
Red plush seats
Ivory-colored walls
Ornate with sculpted shapes
Patterns
Faces and vases
Gold-leaf highlights

As the hour approaches
Far below
On the stage
Instrumentalists
Move into sections
Concert Master appears
An A is sounded

Tuning begins
Then silence
Audience awaits
Tuxedoed conductor emerges
Taking the podium
Cues the orchestra
Magic and wonder fill the room

I often feel
On those evenings
Nothing else exists
Hurtling through the universe
Alone in this space
Unique in its own timelessness
Creations of those long departed
Made present

©2019 Thomas W. Cummins

 

Dead From Cancer

March 26, 2019

He was difficult

A challenge

Not very enjoyable to visit

Extreme ideology

A Christian Identity adherent

Vocal, preachy

 

But I hung in there

He enjoyed the company

Confined to his room

Alone

Dying

In the prison infirmary

©2019 Thomas W. Cummins

I’ve never been me before

October 5, 2018

With the early morning fog
All was white-gray
Seeing nothing for more than 100 yards
Islands were not to be seen
Nor the far shore

Silence
Well, not quite
Soft, gentle movement heard
Water caressing the rock-strewn
Beach

I was thinking, for me,
This is a new experience
And certainly so
On this day, in this place
At this age

Who I am today is new
What I experience today is new
All I see and all I hear, new
The me of now
Has never existed before

I’ve never been this me before
I should be in awe of everything
Tired of nothing
Open to the grace
Of all things

©2018 Thomas W. Cummins

I was quite young

December 11, 2017

Going through boxes and boxes of stuff in preparation for downsizing during the next decade, or so.

I was quite young when I wrote this. Perhaps it was 55 years ago. Nevertheless, here it is

If I could choose