Longing for Rosebud Matches
green and red box
snug in my palm
stylized red roses
tucked around words
sturdy wooden stems
bulbous inflammatory tips
no longer homegrown
manufactured beyond the seas
spindly sticks, daubed in pale pink
stutter, do not light
pile like kindling
useless as the box
my container is fragile
content frayed
fire burning out
silver cord will snap
body cold
iota of cosmic dust
No Handkerchief Man
Dad blew his snot into the wind
spit tobacco juice everywhere.
He was a hat man, as were men born
in nineteen hundred and one.
He cursed most every word, unlike Mom
who never took the Lord’s name in vain.
Quick to anger, Dad reviled, cut to size
anyone different in color, belief, or way.
His mother knew him as Orrin Earl
never forgave him for changing to Jack.
Nor did his first wife forgive him
for abandoning her and their little girl.
Court records detail how she tried to find
the man with the changed named, force him to pay.
Depression in full swing, he flew the coop,
worked the pipelines out west.
Barely able to buy a coffee,
pay room and board.
Found a Kansas woman
who birthed a baby girl.
Seldom sent money to the pair
sheltering with parents in Ohio.
Six more kids, many homes
no place he ever set to for long.
Dad died in a nursing home
—alone.
Passed By
my friend moved
away
didn’t say
goodbye
our twinned life
cast aside,
forgotten
touching toes in
the sandbox
tucked between
our houses
backyard
sleepouts, tracing
the Big Dipper
wheel round the North Pole
giggling, scarcely able
to get through our Dr. Seuss books
marked each birthday with a bangle
for our charm bracelets
I took a lonesome
ride
to the swimming
hole
glimpsed the
glistening girl
jumping rope in
her new yard
stayed palm on
handlebar
clamped my mouth
peered into the
future
passed on by
Prickly Eyes
evergreen garlands
protrude from eyes
twine round neck, head
arborist-mother
removes prickly branches
unwinds time
child turns toward father
comforted by limb’d arms
child turns back
red-eyed horror
eyes there, not there
skin peeled away
raw anatomy
muffled sobs, crazed sounds
cross blind chasms
mother beseeches ancestors:
pull mote from
thine eye
when beam is in mine
own?
tangled roots, thorny branches
twigs, splinters, family tree
sturdy heartwood
greening sapwood
cosseted by bark
Rock-a-bye Shaman
The shamanic tree of life or axis mundi, center of the earth, universe
or cosmos links the shaman's consciousness with the underworld, the middle
world and the spirit realms of the upper world. Art Stories by David Paladin
I
mother earth
cradles shaman
in crack between
worlds
II
iced tree
silvered by
sunlight
resplendent
ladder
piercing upper
world
wind blows
bough breaks
down comes shaman
ladder and all
III
massy roots
blackened by
moonlight
tenebrous ladder
penetrating
underworld
earth shudders
root snaps
up comes shaman
ladder and all
IV
rock-a-bye baby
on treetops
wind blows
cradle rocks
bough breaks
cradle falls
down comes baby
cradle and all
Fay L. Loomis lives in the woods in Kerhonkson, New York. A member of the Stone Ridge Library Writers and Rat’s Ass Review Workshop, her poetry and prose have appeared in numerous publications. A stroke, combined with the pandemic, have woven quietude into Fay’s life.
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