Archive
March 19th, 2017
The Last Evening of Winter
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sun, 03/19/2017 - 19:13The sun has now set on the last evening of winter.
You can still see
a little sunlight
on the top most branches
and the remaining snow
reflects
the last of the light.
The family dog
sleeps on his bed
like he had all afternoon
even though
the sun
no longer warms his back.
In a nearby nursing home
an aging man
laments
the death of his sister
while he holds onto his hope
of going home.
On a distant road
a young family
continues their journey
to a new home
far away.
It is time
to turn off the news
and read a good book.
March 18th
The Toddler’s Psalm
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sat, 03/18/2017 - 20:51I lift up my arms to the Lord
like a toddler wanting to be picked up.
In a toddler’s voice I cry out
I’m hungry, and You fed me
I’m angry and You calm me
I’m lonely and You comfort me
I’m tired and You give me rest.
You pick me up
and hold me in your warm embrace
and I rest my head on your chest.
March 17th
Spinning
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Fri, 03/17/2017 - 21:32My mind is spinning
on the drive home
grasping for threads
an idea here or there
that can be woven
into a poem.
My mind is spinning
on the drive home
thinking about the people
I need to respond to
and the lack of time
to do it.
My mind is spinning
on the drive home.
Can I combine parts
of this and that
ideas, messages,
and anything else
into a poem,
even if it isn’t great,
or would it be better
to just go to sleep.
March 16th
Wristbands
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Thu, 03/16/2017 - 21:31He looked down at the black letters
on the white plastic wristband;
name, date of birth,
blood type;
antiseptic.
How different it was
from the last wristband he wore;
brightly colored and sparkling
in spite of
the music festival
mud.
March 15th
Contemplative Snow Shoveling
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Wed, 03/15/2017 - 20:31It is still dark when I rise,
a late winter storm
having dropped
a heavy blanket
of snow
on the driveway.
I normally spend this hour
in contemplation and study
but I know
it will take me
much longer
to clear
the driveway.
The waning gibbous moon
hangs low in the western sky
flanked by two bright stars,
or perhaps
more likely,
by the planets
Venus
and Saturn.
I lean on my shovel,
relax;
I can feel each muscle
in my body.
Deep breaths.
What is your body telling you?
I feel my heart pounding
within my chest.
It is telling me
to go slowly
to pace myself;
wise advice
for both
the shoveling
and life.
The scape of my shovel
and the scrape
of a distant plow
are joined
by the wind chime
swaying
in the post storm
breeze.
