Señor Hache Dice

This is my second share of poetry in a three day challenge.  Tomorrow will be my third day and I also the start of a Poem a Day for April.  I am going to try to write a poem a day for the month of April. I will not share each day gentle reader, because I am still kind of shy(read uncertain) about my poetic skills.  Anyway - today being grey and dreary, and the indoor pools being closed thanks to COVID-19 I am longing for the days of swimming in the open air.  One of my favorite places to swim is Fairview Pool in Normal.  Normal Parks and Rec has an early morning lap swim for adults that starts at 6:30 in the morning.  It is a lovely time to swim and enjoy the quiet of the park.  Here is my paean to the lap swim at Fairview.  A Fairview Dawn My right hand reaches above my head, breaks the silken surface, and cups then pulls the coolness along my chest. Then my left hand reaches out and shifts the axis, somewhat sinisterly, lett...

I have been participating in an poetry writing/reading group at the Normal Public Library, that is being led by an amazing poet and friend Kathleen Kirk.  She has invited me to share three days of poetry that I have written.  I haven't published these before, but I have shared this one at the Poetry Is Normal Readings.  It was written about how white noise, like rain, can have a calming effect on sleep. I'd love any responses you have.  If you'd like to join the challenge, all you have to do is post three.  Kathleen reminded me that in April (Poetry Month) there is a poem a day challenge.  I am trying to ramp up my writing to focus and write a poem a day in April as well.   I am really missing the time spent with other poets at the Poetry is Normal events.  Maybe we can zoom those at some point.  Here's today's shared poem.  I hope you enjoy it! Rain Unable to sleep, I start the white noise machine’s purr. A susurration...

Spring Pandemic Snow David Hirst At first, fat flakes fall on limbs where tiny twigs, like fragile fingers, meet to form fulcrums. These gentle hollows cradle the cold captives, feathering minute nests, forming downy pillows. Then, as cadential snow falls, the pillows puff up casting lines down the broadening boughs.                                                                                                                                                                         We, frail fellowship               ...

Before the COVID19 pandemic came to roost here in Central Illinois I ran into some friends, Joe Strano and Janine Toth at Lucca Pizza.  In classic telegraphic fashion we exchanged pleasantries and titles of books that we are reading.  I was given two suggestions from them that day both are so timely: A Constellation of Vital Phenomena  by Anthony Marra and the above photo The Weight of Ink  by Rachel Kadish. A Constellation of Vital Phenomena   is a heart wrenching book about the war in Chechnya.  In addition to providing a narrative about the ravages, both physical and emotional of war it is also about true love, friendship, endurance, betrayals and resilience.  Most timely in my mind is the portions that relate the efforts of Sonja a doctor who is struggling to keep a regional hospital working during the worst of the war.  These images have stayed with me as I am awed by the strength and courage of those I know in the front lines of the...

The Poetic Inspiration: My dilemma in all of this pandemic situation.  I am 62 years old, I suffer from an autoimmune disease.  This virus has caused me to look mortality in the eye and to choose to social distance in order to protect myself and others from the virus.  I am also the product of white privilege, something that I have endeavored to remedy by dedicated my life to teaching, social activism and sharing the joy of music.  Lately, I have been feeling rather marginalized by society.  First,  because I know too many people who look at my actions as Quixotic, fighting windmills instead of monsters. Many who have retired comfortably are willing to travel the globe seeking what they feel is merited respite. This is fine by me, but don't look down on me for engaging and giving back to the community that fostered my family.    Second, because I sense that the younger generation looks at my generation (the tail end of the boomers) as being ...