Glory Days

A few of you remember them - back when VPL was packed with poets reading Patterson and Tom and Larry Rapant and I were on the road with our poems about state workers and the Altamont Fair, with Tom and Brian Kennedy providing musical backup. Well, Saturday felt like a glory day again, didn't it? There were some lean years in between - when there were just six of us for Poetry Day reading to each other. This is infinitely better. I had a great time. I appreciate our poetry. I appreciate the way we all have grown. We write a lot of good stuff and are striving to get better. Thank you all for being good writers and good friends.

Steve, Amy and Tim from Comhaltus, made the day very special. I loved the good music, Tim's fascinating instrument, Amy's red hair and Steve's commentary. Thanks totally to all of them.

Thinking about good friends, I am glad that Dan was with us on Saturday and that Carol Graser came for the first time to check us out- Carol's image of the stripes peeling from the flag is still with me - and the writers from the Bethlehem group. Dan always wins my heart with his politically oriented slant on things; this one was particularly good. I missed Larry and Susan Riback and Ryu and Mildred, but was happy to have relative newbies like Alan and Catherine and Tim with us. I saw Ron Pavoldi slip in at the near the end of things but didn't get to chat with him.

Thanks, Tom, for remembering the Tall Poet. We miss you, John Rankin. Mike B. read two award-winning poems, one of his own and one that his granddaughter Morgan wrote about the beach. I really liked Alan's selection of poems and tribute to Kurt Vonnegut. I loved Mark's hat and Ally's costume. Her headpiece was gorgeous, and her rendition of Billy Collins' candle hat appropriate and funny. Timmy wore his anthology shirt. I was wearing my pajamas, by the way - black satin with red hearts. I guess my Prelude to Love (spinach and croutons) piece was a laugh and my ruminations on death and war pretty depressing in an otherwise happy day. I found my old copper-turn-your-arm-green POW/MIA bracelet from forty years ago and I have been wearing it and contemplating young men dying. (Don't go pc on me. I have two sons and five grandsons, so I am always thinking young men.)

The ten-year-old grandson was there early with his mother helping with the kitchen coordinating and setup. Thank you to both of them and to Mike Burke who lugged chairs and microphone, etc., to all who helped with clean up, and the significant others who made supportive appearances. To judge by the consumption, the food was fantastic - I think we need to incorporate eating into more of our interactions. It certainly drew a crowd. Maybe obeedude's chocolate chip pancakes.

Some of us finished up the day at Smitty's. I missed Ally, who was too tired to join us. I managed to pack away a root beer, then went home to take a nap myself.