Two Poems by John Harold Olson

Saturday Snow 

 

 snow started on Friday night 

walking home from the bus the sound of traffic muffled 

Snowed all night 

Sun burst up like Dagr 

Bright through the window.

The white crystalline world alive 

 

“What’s it like? Where it’s cold like that.” Construction site In the Mojave desert. 

 Waiting for the mud truck. 

“So cold”, Olson said, “you don’t even notice it.”

 

 

Rowboat 

 

 The boat hung half swamped over a clay spot just off the beach. 

 The kids would come down in the sun and push it up and down the shore. 

 When they tired of the boat they swam, 

and once a lake freighter, long and short like an inchworm in the light, paraded down the lake. 

 The Monarch barely moved its wings, sharing the sun.

John Harold Olson - Is a retired Special Education teacher in Las Vegas. Transitioning to being a hospice volunteer.