Dandelion
Ted leapt from the end of his bed
Trimmed down the stairs
And ran full-bore
In an endless lope
Toward an horizon only he could see.
His right foot caught a noteworthy rock
And forward he went as his chin
Cut a narrow furrow in the grass.
Chest, arms, waist and knees
Bounced along in a rude clap of earth and bone.
The three-year-old opened his mouth
In rehearsal of an outraged howl
As he came face to face with a dandelion
In full yellow-butter bloom
Blasting light and green:
A dandelion monument shined out
In the magnificent rise of glowing eyes
And a smile of utter, final surprise.
He made a sound somewhere between
O and Ow and Wow.
A.Willis, Jan. 21, 2009
Here we are...
...a group of Baby Boomers of sundry religious,
political and cultural orientations, who have been
meeting at the Voorheesville Public Library since 1991
to read and discuss each other's poems.
We include old fathers and young grandmothers,
artists and musicians, and run-of-the-mill eccentrics.
Writers are welcome to stop in and stay if they like us.
political and cultural orientations, who have been
meeting at the Voorheesville Public Library since 1991
to read and discuss each other's poems.
We include old fathers and young grandmothers,
artists and musicians, and run-of-the-mill eccentrics.
Writers are welcome to stop in and stay if they like us.
Some of Us
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
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