Attentiveness
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 03/20/2017 - 20:51My right eyelid twitches.
Am I stressed?
Am I overtired?
Am I lacking some vitamins?
Is it something else,
or just a coincidence?
I think back to my cough
when I entered certain rooms
after certain discussions
or meals.
Allergies?
A nervous tick?
What else is my body telling me?
What are the things around me
I need to pay more attention to?
What else do we all need
to pay attention to?
The weather?
what’s along the road?
a friend’s sigh?
And how do we do it,
observing,
waiting,
and not obsessing?
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.
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.
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.
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.
