Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Passing Time, by Sharman Gill
Yesterday
we picked bright pumpkins from a
trailing vine of green
and golden maples flicked afternoon
light on your honey head of curls.
Today
we slog through pallid leaves,
you a bundle of fleece and boots,
while naked limbs shiver, entire
trees sway. And you point upward
into only grayness until
I see
A hundred birds pass by.
At Home In September, by Sharman Gill
When I step out in the evening
light, I find him, our blonde boy,
giggles and kicks,
puckered lips, blowing
handfuls of feathered seeds upward
toward tree tops and the reddening
sky. Wind-lifted swirls
beyond this red brick house.
A First Blooming, by Sharman Gill
Even when the season’s right.
How could I miss the tender
unrolling, the flushing toward
sun? I’ve walked this garden
‘round each day as I’ve held
you since birth. A part of me.
We are one, I thought,
until I stopped in color’s path
And wondered at the change.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Thanks Mom, by Berkley Walker
it would ruin her voice,
so she would sing
when others would scream
Dinner time is one thing
but imagine a chorus
at your wrestling match,
or your cross-country meet!
But I will tell you this,
I never grappled better
nor ran faster-
than when cheered by a Soprano.
Thanks Mom.
Berkley Walker writes a poem a day on his blog "The Legend of Berkley"