These pines wait with needles browning
Though crowns still pregnant with pine cones
Surrounded by asphalt left with no room
For young to fall not too far from the tree
At their gnarled feet the needles a carpet
Fragrantly scented in which nothing grows
All once young now old
Even the train
Wheezes down the warped and bumpy tracks
At six miles per hour or so
With no place much to go
These trees have seen this train go by
A million times by now
They’re still here and so am I
One of the things I love the best about being a poetry editor is when poets that have published before return to us with more poetry. This is a lovely thing. This week John Grey came back to grace us with his unique perspective and compelling imagery. I hope you’ll stop by and read his new work.
Although I love Simon’s work, I find this latest set of poems to be especially compelling. Please stop by Eye On Life Online Magazine and visit my Poetry Unlocked section to enjoy these exceptional poems. It pleases me no end that Simon is becoming a regular contributor. His poems are well crafted and uniquely styled, and his inventive usage challenges and piques the imagination.
If you are going to the Individual World Poetry Slam in Cleveland next week, October 13th through 15th, and you are interested in writing an article covering the event for Eye On Life Online Magazine, please use the “Contact Tom Rubenoff” field on my main feature page, The Poetry Locksmith, to discuss your qualifications and terms for renumeration.
Returning to breathing with acceptance
Focused in the upper reaches of light
That which eludes the naked eye is glimpsed
Fragments of truth that inspire delight
If not understanding. Like broken shards
Multifaceted reflections, so our
Visions are by our thought process shattered
Returning to us in pieces. Power
Resides in the returning: our strong-willed
Desire to come back to ourselves, our home
In waters that by mindfulness we’ve stilled.
We contain the Earth’s circle, the sky’s dome.
We carry back the oneness we have learned
When from our returning we have returned.
In his new poem, “Savannah Belle“, Donal dances expertly with his subject. Reading the poem for the first time was like watching my Kung Fu teacher ballroom dance with his dance teacher. A real treat, in other words. I hope you’ll stop by and check out the poem.