Posts Tagged ‘poetry’
A Patch of Light
March 31, 2012A Gateway Lullaby
March 20, 2012Dock Pulled From the Lake
October 12, 2011Dock Pulled From the Lake
It’s fall – work done awaiting the wind, snow, cold All that leveling last spring – slow, ponderous, perfect Rakish on the hillside now leaning against the chocks Tires old, bald, often flat, held it for the slow ride out of the water Dark green becoming pale and gray Scaly scum drying in the sun Ice can’t reach the spindly legs bent one year Leaves will gather beneath blown into sheltered hiding Summer’s sights and sounds brought life to the dock Children laughing, planks clattering, boats bumping, lifts clicking Worms, bobbers, hooks, lines – casting, watching, waiting Late afternoons – chairs, glasses of wine, binoculars Thousands of acres of lake with no movement except the waves The loon a favorite regular – used to be shy – magnificent beauty Eagles must know when we’re not watching – a shadow, a glimpse, a whoosh Large bass love the dock’s dark seclusion – they just sit An occasional boat glides by, silver lines flicking into the shallows Huge motor tipped, silent, pulled by tiny electric motor At night one feels suspended over the dark stillness Moon, stars, planets, the Milky Way – a hum from the town’s distant glow© 2011 Thomas W. Cummins
A small fire down by the lake
September 19, 2011Packing up a composition book for some writing, I found this from June of last year:
I set a fire this morning
A small fire down by the lake
Such stillness
Slight swells from an unseen boat
Grays and silvers too numerous to count
The fire spits sending sparks to ride the column of smoke
Straight up
No breeze
What did we have to offer?
December 8, 2009What he should’ve known
What he could’ve known
It’s too late now
I really don’t think he knew
But his handlers did
That foolish and arrogant man
His understanding was meager
Wisdom completely absent
Heels dug in with inexplicable certitude
Instincts abundant
Poorly formed in pampered privilege
Trying to outdo a parent
Ready fodder for manipulators
Playing upon uninformed passion
Vengeful unleashing of unwarranted invasion
Naïve occupation and reckless governance
Torture
Damage done far exceeds
Oppression replaced
Security gone
Hundreds of thousands killed
Millions displaced or injured
Unemployment and frustration
Humiliation and broken families
An ancient civilization
Modern indifference
Now, seething rage looking for an outlet
Self-destruction; self-hatred.
What did we have to offer?
Most of all, I am grateful
January 14, 2008
In his book, The Holy Longing, Ronald Rolheiser speaks of “mellowness of heart and spirit.” Gratitude. Following today’s morning run, and most of my morning runs, a sense of gratefulness is most apparent.
Thirty years ago this March, I thought I’d try getting some exercise. That first run on a cold Iowa afternoon is not easily forgotten. A few days earlier, I had measured off a mile on the streets of our neighborhood. That seemed a reasonable first try. It seems short now. But as I stepped out the door in my new Adidas “Country” shoes, I was apprehensive. The last time I ran a mile was during gym class in high school, some twenty years earlier. Throwing up after two laps around the track was the dominant memory.
I returned from that first run not too happy. My vision was pink. I was gasping for breath. The whole experience didn’t look good. But thirty years later, I am most grateful for the decision then, and my being able to continue now. As I look back, it has really been life-changing for me.
In a dim light... 