Ballad for the Mortal Man

By A.E. Bayne

Running rivulets shadows snake,
Venomous and vapid,
Across the grass that wants for wear;
I watch the lone man happen.

There wrests the man in ripe repose
Pondering my twin,
As birches drop their golden leaves,
He lets the slow thoughts swim.

He leans to right and sets his gaze
Down farthest reaches sought.
What plays upon his measured brow
Are mortal thoughts, so wrought.

I’ve witnessed men poised often here
A hundred times or more,
So anxious they to make their marks
On future’s hazy shore.

Running rivulets shadows snake,
Venomous and vapid,
Across the grass that wants for wear;
I watch the lone man happen.

Then leans he left to tread a step
His mind secure at last.
The day quite done with setting sun,
Decision time has passed.

(Response to "The Road Not Taken", by Robert Frost http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html)

An Evening with Mr. Williams

I spent the last couple of hours with Mr. William Carlos Williams , soaking in his brevity and simplicity while listening to the rain. We had a splendid conversation about imagery and finding truth in the small things. Here's just a bit of what was said:

Mr. Williams wrote:

As the cat
climbed over
the top of

the jamcloset
first the right
forefoot

carefully
then the hind
stepped down

into the pit of
the empty
flowerpot


And I responded in like style:

"Gardening in Late March"

bent she is
a blossom
a flower

working soil
the humus
afresh

with the waft
of moist earth
and worms

and the tips of
her pigtails
trowling it

"The Scholar's Poem"

he sings as
he tasks at
his homework

a constant hum
emits from
the room

and the couch
creaks ceaseless
beneath

as he ponders
the weight
of his world


"The Rain's Unnerving Song"

The rain drains
resounding
through pipes

working my nerves
it is seeping
through walls

the soffits
sit soft in
the damp

and the weight of
the water
wills weeping


"Ice Storm"

ice brings limbs
landward
much like us

freezing the clock
hands on the
half-hour

with brittle
limbs ticking
time toward

tough branches that
snap askew
we prune back

Ahhhhhh, Autumn!

Autumn Poem
By Garrison Keillor
Hear it at http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs/2007/11/03/
Segment 3: skip to minute 6:54

Here on an autumn night in the orchard smell
Sitting in a pile of leaves under a starry sky
Oh what fine stories we could tell
With the starlight to tell them by
October night and you and paradise
So lovely and so full of grace
Above your head the universe has hung its lights
And I reach out my hand to touch your face.
I believe in impulse and all that is green
I believe in the foolish vision that comes out true
Believe that all that is essential is unseen
And for this lifetime I believe in you.
All of the lovers and the love they made
Nothing that was between them was a mistake
All that we did for love's sake was not wasted and will never fade.
All who have loved shall be forever young
And walk in grandeur on a cool fall night along the avenue.
They live in every song that is ever sung
In every painting of pure light
In every pot adieu
Love that shines in every star and love reflected in the silver moon,
It is not here, but it’s not far.
Not yet, but it will be here soon.