The pine scrapes
blue, sun glistens
on fresh snow.
Winter redeemed.
poem- this is love November 13, 2020
The scrape of the snow shovel begins
just as my alarm rings.
The snow is heavy and ankle deep.
You should take my vehicle today, he says.
The studded tires stick to the road.
This is the safer route.
Be careful!
He doesn’t say I love you,
but I know it
anyway.
poem-they’re thinning the trees November 12, 2020
Pines and spruce tower
ninety feet into the air
a wall of green
a squirrel playground.
Broken by the last windstorm
Branches the size of adult legs snapped,
tangled,
blocking the road,
risking the roof.
With each roar of the chainsaw
years are cut away.
Now, we see the lights of town
glistening below.
Greenery sacrificed for urban beauty.
Our new view
comes with grief for the scent of spruce
in the waving wind.
poem- microcosm November 11, 2020
The newscast announces an IED*
blew up another patrol.
Dread descends.
My heart pounds.
I strain to hear the names.
Let him be safe.
Let him be safe.
One hundred fifty-eight other names were called.
A thousand prayers unheard.
A thousand exploded hearts.
He carries them all in his duffel
when he returns.
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#LestWeForget
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IED= improvised explosive device.
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A favourite student of mine fought in Afghanistan with the Canadian Armed Forces. As I listened at the radio during the time he was gone, I was conscious of what an entire generation of families must have felt as they listened to hear about all the boys and men of their communities fighting abroad. The magnification of the stress was easy to imagine. ‘My’ soldier returned safely to Canada and returned to the high school to speak in a Rembrance Day service a year or two later. I bawled my eyes out through the whole thing so thankful he was alive and whole. I’m thinking of him today, and all those families whose hearts were broken, not so long ago.
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poem-caught November 10, 2020
Poor tree
still dressed in golden finery,
weighed down by winter’s haste.
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poem-putting up the Christmas lights November 8, 2020
We’re going to wrap the outside tree.
Just round and round
says he,
but these are different colours
we should go up and down to mix,
she suggests too tentatively.
So now the tree is half one
half the other.
Divided territories,
instead of blended harmony.
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(Just a poem about what went on today as hubby and I put up the lights, and suddenly I’m reading it now and seeing it as a rather profound metaphor- also- where the heck did that rhyme come from? >shrug< Poetry, eh? It does its own thing!)
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poem-be happy pantoum November 7, 2020
Another demo pantoum written with an English class. 🙂
I wish we were happy
I wish we were glad
This poem will be quite sappy
But it will not be sad
.
I wish we were glad
I wish we were silly
But it will not be sad
Though the weather is chilly
.
I wish we were silly
That election is scary
Though the weather is chilly
The situation is hairy!
.
That election is scary
But koalas are cute
The situation is hairy!
But I bought new boots!
.
Koalas are cute
Mac and cheese comfort food
I bought new boots!
Folks, don’t be so rude!
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Mac and cheese comfort food
Make this poem quite sappy
Folks, don’t be so rude!
I wish we were happy
poem-forgotten day November 6, 2020
To write a poem each day
requires a better memory than I have
A hole in the calendar.
An attempt at restitution.
Something
is not always better
than nothing.
poem-then they peeled back their faces November 5, 2020
then they peeled back their faces
Read this
you said to me.
I poured over words
with the focus of any girl
trying to impress her crush.
Oh, how the story spoke hidden horror!
Everyone in disguise.
No one revealing their true selves.
Forty years meditating on those masks.
2020! Society in masquerade!
Kindness, care, concern: all fake.
The true horror’s been revealed.
Shawn L. Bird 