A poetic salute on Veteran's Day

A SALUTE

It's Veteran's Day, and in my mind
I see the flags and guns aligned,
parading down the thoroughfare,
cheers and chanting everywhere.

With wholeness gone, but proud and free,
from wheelchair, an amputee
waves tearfully, perhaps through pain
and hopes it was not all in vain,
                                                   his sacrifice.

Memories--still vivid--swirl,
blitzing those who served at Pearl;
the Rangers now, though all old men,
smile proudly as they think again
                                                     of Normandy.

Gunner's mates, ensigns and chiefs
remember all their various griefs
and hells, awaking still to screams
of slogging through the swamp in dreams
                                                                   of Vietnam.

Returned to glorious accolades,
the troops of Desert Storm parade,
proud of their work in blinding sands,
defending Kuwait's borderlands
                                                   on Persia's gulf.

And in my mind's projection room,
I hear the drum's resounding boom,
reminding me of sacrifice,
of pain and death: the awesome price
                                                            of freedom.

PL, written November 11, 1989.

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Blogging: 'mums & haiku

plants in for winter

Christmas cactus budding

in late October

~ ~ ~

red vine adorning

the bridge abutment--

approach both with care

~ ~ ~

after the crows,

small birds jibby & schree

--red honey locust

~ ~ ~ 

ecru over brown

leaves on the trail...…..farther

splashes of orange

~ ~ ~

6:00 a. m.

the cat & I both stretching

toward another day

~ ~ ~

an owl's whoawh

breaking the morning silence

over the deer stand

~ ~ ~ 

c 2018, PL, d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Found poems from my readings

--formed from Bob Lancaster's, column, Arkansas Times, Oct.3, 2003
I.
history laughs
at our attempts to corral
it into a text
II.
history
only taught in the school
of hard knocks
III.
old timers
know history
by empathy
~ ~ ~

--formed from "Natural Light," an essay by Edw. Hougland, Harper's, Oct 2000

I.

the yellow-throat song

from the raspberry patch

--a pair of beavers

II.

the mink frog's call--

a raven answers

in similar voice

~ ~ ~

--formed from Bill Hall, editorial page editor, Lewiston (ID) Tribune, Oct.1.1999

a mother's knowing--
fury in grown child's worry
speaks to her of love
~ ~ ~

--formed from a letter in Birds & Blooms, Oct/Nov, 2005, p. 46

Mrs.. Cherry's
dilemma--how to keep squirrels
away from her pears
~ ~ ~

--formed from Rick Bragg's, All Over But the Shoutin', several pages, Oct. 29, 2003

I.
"Baby Brother"

never had a name,
making it easier
to forget him (p.67)
II.
much of the Old South's
in books on coffee tables
in Greenwich Village
III.
oscillating fan
blowing flies around
the living room (p.70)
~ ~ ~

c 2018, PL d/b/a/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

blogging: poems of mid-October

CONTEST WINNER
Can you
imagine a
two-thousand, five-hundred-
twenty-eight pound pumpkin? How would
it taste?
~ ~ ~ ~ from ADG's News in brief, 10.1.'18

NEARLY THAT TIME AGAIN
HAMMER,
FARMER, BAPTIST
among election signs
along the highways in Saline
County.
~ ~ ~ ~

woodpecker eating

the rest of the abandoned

suet cake

~ ~ ~ ~

A LEAF AND A SPIDER WEB

Oak leaf

caught in a web

dances without a net

or puppet strings. It's a brown bird

flying.

After

a gust of wind

both the leaf and the web

that held it flew off, never to

return.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hearing,

then seeing, a

flock of geese flying west

on this early, first cold snap of

autumn.

c 2018, PL d/b/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Summer is a-goin' out, fall is comin' in - Poems & photos

Summer
left grudgingly
with an hour's thunder,
wind blowing still-green leaves from two
maples.
~ ~ ~ ~

wisteria
clipped from crape myrtle
sending up a shoot
~ ~ ~ ~

Stretching
for the suet
--to no avail--the finch
finally hops to a closer
branch, eats.
~ ~ ~ ~

A wren

flies to the porch,

then to the flowerbed.

A hummingbird whirrs in to sip

red sage.

~ ~ ~ ~

Baby

lizard dares to

emerge from behind the

porch box; I shake my footstool, it

goes back.

~ ~ ~ ~

across the sidewalk

dandelions facing 'mums

summer into fall

~ ~ ~ ~

brown thrasher

enjoying the suet

alone

~ ~ ~

Mother's Day hibiscus

Blogging with poems about 9-11

                                                                       Lest we forget

STILL TOO EMOTIONAL
Folding
pages of news
about 9-11
anniversary till I can
take it.
[2002]
~ ~ ~

bereaved families
their loved ones returned
piece by piece
             eventually
[2006]
~ ~ ~

World Trade Towers
"attacked...aflame...
aground
      &
medical teams,
volunteers of all colors
in hospital green
       &
two days later,
he pulls his "9-11" shirt
from a jumbled drawer
[2012]
~ ~ ~

The flag
billowed in gusts
of winds that moved cloud streaks
through the pale blue sky and across
the sun.
[2012]

SHUDDER . . . CHILL
Sixty
degrees on Nine-
Eleven, 15 years
since the bombing of the World Trade
Towers.
[2016]
~ ~ ~

JOURNAL ENTRIES, 2018
On swing.
Raining gently.
In the distance, a train.
Cloudy, almost breeze-less. Lest we
forget.
   
      &

the flag
dripping tears
of rain
~ ~ ~

c2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

More August poems and photos

Door-side table, decorated for company

in a wobbly hand

her thank-you letters

83rd birthday

(my mom)

~ ~ ~

neighboring lawns die

above the red-brick fence

bougainvillea

~ ~ ~

                  My pitifully-blooming bougainvillea. Next year, I'll know to cut it 'way back.

from a pine needle

the raindrop shoots prisms

then falls

~ ~ ~

thunderstorm brewing

early morning looking

like late evening

~ ~ ~

predawn porch light

revealing both spider and web

in daylight, no trace

~ ~ ~

early morning trip

sharing the road with the crows

and their breakfast

~ ~ ~

Porch flag in the wind, August '18, Couchwood

spread by the winds

of midsummer

the dreaded thistle

~ ~ ~

Yucca

bloom buds rising,

expanding in sunlight.

One day soon, they'll become three white

torches.

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA