Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Poetry: Confined

Author’s note: The first weekend in May is my usual time for a backpacking trip. It is usually the best time of the year for it. No bugs, few others around and reasonably good weather. However, this year it pains me to know it is best to stay home no matter how much the mountains and lakes call me. Instead, I wrote about past snapshots of experiences on this weekend. — Wade Bittle

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Sunday, April 26, 2020

Poetry: Cabin Generations

Cabin Generations

Mom’s great grandkids
chatter like crickets
who sport human frames
busy-busy all day long
In the big tent now they
nap breathing deeply
as their dreams map out
who knows what trails?

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, April 25, 2020

Poetry: Learn

Learn

My plane is not yet spirit,
I am in flux, always,
Fighting between body and soul.
The sultry air calms me,
Reminds me,
To always
Look up.
Surely you can find your way,
Wind whispers in my ear.
Watch how birds traverse the wild sky,
Mind to mind, they are linked,
Over miles,
Keeping pace
As one.
Butterflies speak in soft tongues,
Imparting lessons learned.
Though their breadth of life may be brief,
They live colors of hope,
Taking all,
And giving all
They are.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 19, 2020

Poetry: Mommy Is Always With You

Mommy Is Always With You

Inspired by parents, healthcare workers and first responders, who have paid the ultimate sacrifice in these hard times.

Easter  bunnies and Easter chicks,
May peep from your pillow quite changed.
No Easter egg hunts will we see for awhile,
But, mommy is always with you, my child.

Bunny ears are hand-sewn and stitched,
Next year you will have them brand new.
Colored paper is grass in a home-made style,
And, mommy is always with you, my child.

Let me hold you so very  close,
Let me keep you away from harm.
Together we’ll bake bread and play ‘till we smile,
Yes, mommy is always with you, my child.

At end of day, our prayers we pray,
As I put my baby to sleep
Though we both may never forget this hard trial,
Your mommy was always with you, my child.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Monday, April 13, 2020

Poetry: Beyond This Moment

Beyond This Moment

Over wires and wavelengths, searching for a spark…
Connecting…losing connection..Ground Control, we have a problem…
Cowering, grasping the frayed edges of a receding world,
Watching it flounder in an apocalyptic ebb-tide of grief, hubris, delusion…
The bitter cold of it gnawing our bones.
Brother, can you spare a word?  Brother, can you spare a touch?
Not safe, not yet, nor knowing when that yet may be.
Building towers and moats that imprison insidiously,
Until precious thoughts cannot climb to an open window,
Grappling, we tether loved ones to our breathless bodies,
To float them, as the ark is filled with holes,
Pleading, “If we die, even though we die, let us die… Not. Alone.”
Tired hands break the water, submerge, then rise again to prove,
That hope lives.
We hold tightly to each other over airwaves, and in numbers, find strength.
Our hearts believe the promise of salvation, given to us in blood.
We are loved. We are forgiven.  We are.. “Not. Alone”.
A dove flies above us, carrying a green branch in its mouth.
It sings a sweet song and its music gives purchase in the rising storm.
We are children of a higher grace.  We are part of a divine plan.
We are stronger than this and We. Can. Survive…Beyond this moment.

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 12, 2020

Poetry: Back at the Cabin

Back at the Cabin

Breeze soughs among
uphill poplar stands
Newborn Rachel’s clothes
hang out to Sun-dry
White-throated sparrow
drops her final note
whose loud lack haunts
consciousness all day
Expectation unfulfilled
pattern recognition lost

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 5, 2020

Poetry: For Marion Higley

For Marion Higley

Light-filled woman, she,
College-taught and Bishop’s wife,
Baptized on a worn, porcelain-metal table
In a plank house on the edge of pine woods.
Woman of tenderness, she,
Washing sand from the sun-warmed limbs of
Three fair daughters and a wheaten-haired baby son,
With hand-pumped well-water in a porcelain sink-basin,
While scented sun motes danced around their heads,
And laughter floated out across the rippling lake.

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Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Poetry: Changes

Changes

Broken by brief rain
dull heat disappears
tail between its clouds
I recall late-August
mornings as a child
dressing by the fire
Oatmeal bubbled thick
in big blackened pot
Mountains unmoved
since we went to bed
Clouds now crest them
heavily like a toddler
riding your shoulders

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, March 21, 2020

Poetry: A Child With You

 

A Child With You

Like smudge
marks from
burnt sage

You arrived
at the moment I
needed to touch your

Golden hair
and peach
white belly

Rolling in the mud
by the oak trees

I am
a child with you

Oshkosh B’gosh
overalls and eyelashes

raised like
prayer flags

at the one act of mercy,
we all know
never happens

the way it
is supposed to

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, March 14, 2020

Poetry: Aging Vet

Aging Vet

Frayed old Army field
jacket keeps light rain
off my slim notebook
An aging vet, I’m like
a monk to desire with
only poems to show
Deerfly at 10 o’clock!
Mind pulls up to lose it
but instead the poem
veers off abruptly as
last winter’s ski crowd
beat their hasty retreat

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, March 7, 2020

Poetry: Not So Long Ago

 

Not So Long Ago

Half down the paved road
Husky sled dogs crackled
to chorus dinner time
Can openers slice
150 Alpo can tops
Fellow blackfly-buzzed
berserker mammals

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, February 29, 2020

Poetry: Awakening

Awakening

Secret snows lulled the latent landscape,
A hush of ice, like frosted silver quartz,
Grew gently over the lake, sealing it safely,
While silent evergreens watched, and waited,
Because they knew, and they believed.
In a longer minute, warming winds whispered
Across this virginal canvas, painting strokes of green,
Smidges and smudges of tender shoots and blades,
Into a laced latticework, upon its expectant shores.
Because they knew, and they also believed.
At once, molten, crystal rivulets began to weave and weft,
Down slumbering white-capped peaks,
Tumbling and crashing into the mighty, mother Hudson.
The North Country awakened to its living Spring, afresh,
Because it knew, and always believed.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, February 22, 2020

Nature, the Other, the Big Outside (In Memory of Howard Zahniser)

Nature, the Other, the Big Outside
In Memory of Howard Zahniser

Okay, now don’t look me square in the eye
but watch my ears wiggle — you see him there,
my father, your grandfather, a wise guy
(who was also a wise-guy), taught me to stare
at nothing hard enough to make my ears move.
It’s a great skill if like me you can’t dance
but still feel the need to strut some and groove
dressed not in Nordstrum slacks but Goodwill pants.

Okay, open that window there — yes, wide.
What’s out there is everything that’s not you.
Sure, nature—the other, the big outside,
what redeems you, where you go to renew
yourself, learn to listen, maybe make vows.
Smell that? Not fire and brimstone — balsam boughs.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, February 15, 2020

Poetry: Deer Sleep

Deer Sleep

My three-year-old son
wondered where deer sleep,
so I walked him there. Stepping
into a realm that is not reserved
for fathers and sons, we found
a ritual that has nothing to do
with us. That lost part of the brain
where the Moon barely creeps in.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, February 8, 2020

Poetry: Iniquity

Iniquity

So many snows ago.
Deer-tracks marked a journey,
Tear-tracks marked a journey,
As train-tracks grew cold, collected rust, and families
Moved away, never to return.
Too hard to forage, for man and beast alike.
So came this fight for survival, dictated more and more
By the dollar, Almighty Dollar,
Killing life, killing jobs, killing hope,
Pandering for spoils, preying on the innocent,
Robbing the future.
Northern Lights,
How you still explode the sky to silhouette the beauty
Of these mountains,
The power,
With North Star guiding ever true.
We cry to see your light dimmed by such vast iniquity,
Illuminating once-fertile bowers, callously raided.
Helplessly, we stand in the rough-shod, abandoned tracks
Of our forbears,
To inherit an ominous fruition.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.