When you put on your coat
and light a smoke
on the front stoop, December
gusts tear into you. But
that drag rides all the way
down as you shut your lids.
A hat like your dad
wore when he thrummed
his bass at the clubs, skitters
down the street, no one
to chase and bring it back.
For the first time you notice
a distant train bellowing
like a bull past consolation.
A man in his 20’s wanders
under a streetlamp, snuffling
now unmistakable. You offer
your handkerchief
but the wind is fierce
and deafening. The night enfolds
him like an endless black
curtain. You barely make
out the whimper you follow
for blocks, until you find
a spaniel too afflicted
to stand. Why is tonight
different? Saturday or Wednesday
you’d have returned home.
But now, at 10:37, something
rough bruises your chest.
You remove your jacket
and wrap him delicately, singing
in a whisper. You bend
to kiss his sloppy snout.
Now something turns
your bones to light.
Look! Can you see? Out of the window?
Snowflakes are falling, white blankets are forming.
Patience, little one,
Soon it will be quilted and quiet.
Not far away, three small mammals are doing their sleeping:
The dormouse, pipistrel and the solitary hedgehog -
Mystical prickled pig of the hedgerow.
Ssh, she's away with the fairies.
Snug in her nest, may her slumbers be blessed.
One in a million,
She's a spherical urchin
Curled tight on a cushion of twigs.
Hedgehog is dreaming, snuffling,
To chobble on tanklements of millipede and earwig.
No, no, no!
No mediaeval harbinger of doom -
She's a bristly broom,
Self-anointed by toad skin and poo,
She brushes in spring anew.
And in the half-lit, moonlit summers,
Her little donnies will write spells -
Not ‘ills’, with her quills,
As trails of silvered cursive script
In the glistening ink of snails -
Near nanny’s pots and pails on the patio.
Later, little one,
Her thorny needles will stitch cobwebs of autumn
Between the railings on the hill,
Knitting together a tapestry of seasons.
Shapeshifting.
Bewitching.
Feral hogs attack the land.
They want my neighbors bones.
She is chicken thin,
her neck creaks in the wind.
She does not see the danger;
a gentle great grandmother
of childish dreams.
I fear she will not last the winter.
I eat pork
kill the snuffling trotters
if they draw near.
Cats come to me at night,
dark scouts, warning
of sleepless tusks and snouts.
I also dream, scheme, and plan,
paint red letters on the barn door
of what I see now and saw.
Black cats carry the words
into the woods.
Transports of hereafter
pass one leaf to unclasped heaps.
Flirty winds rearrange the hedgerow plumage,
wisp in gentle whispers.
Chipping sparrows play hid and seek
with a watery sunlight.
Business is flourishing for the snuffling groundhog.
It’s the narrow part of the day,
a shoaling light ripples where squirrels dart.
A Blue Jay raps his usual rib-digging oldie.
Felicity flutters the loose and drifting:
the soft green carousels of evening,
the pirouette and circumvolve promenading.
Leaf bundles are ransacked by delving voles
but gently.
Seeing all this
I paint the hedgerow again with this eventide wash,
watch it all spun into dusk
from these owl bright eyes.
Transports of hereafter
pass one leaf to unclasped heaps.
Flirty winds rearrange the hedgerow plumage,
wisp in gentle whispers.
Chipping sparrows play hid and seek
with a watery sunlight.
Business is flourishing for the snuffling groundhog.
It’s the narrow part of the day,
a shoaling light ripples where squirrels dart.
A Blue Jay raps his usual rib-digging oldie.
Felicity flutters the loose and drifting:
the soft green carousels of evening,
the pirouette and circumvolve promenading.
Leaf bundles are ransacked by delving voles
but gently.
Seeing all this
I paint the hedgerow again with this eventide wash,
watch it all spun into dusk
from these owl bright eyes.
Sentinel, through cloud cover, as a lover discovering each other,
the moonbeam cuts the stillness of the secret night.
Illuminating nightjars in flight and denizens
of the dark embarking on their nocturnal ramblings.
Shambling, snuffling and shuffling
through fern and field and briars unyielding
thorny embrace, they race the dawn,
whilst the sleeping fawn dreams of sweet meadow grass.
Alas, the beams light is transient and ambient blackness is restored,
as dark, rolling clouds once more enshroud woodland,
moor and rocky tor until, once more,
the clouds are rent and another beam is sent.
Stabbing, grabbing the dark in stark illumination and yet,
it softly settles on bog cotton and nettles as a whisper to an ear,
translucent and clear, endearing itself to artists and lovers,
poets and others and mothers night feeding their young.
Alone lone
Suffering snuffling
Social isolation
~x~
Abuse leads to blues
Purity doubts come from Infidelity
Emotional isolation occurs with mistrust.
~x~
Yonder there, where twig figures bend
and blink out as a sea-swell slugs the beach,
there the netted thrash, then hauled, toggled and pinched
yet more, into a gill-snagging catch.
Far away a village rests, submerged
beneath a mossy night, yet some prowl out
seeking ways to scrub a bare-knuckled living,
some to find a new prayer in the restless surf.
There a woman in denim is digging for clams,
I trudge upon a leaky flow to edge near,
to see her blue buckets mouth, its salty slosh,
to tell her I laud her rooting stick, the prod and scoop
of her delving hands.
Here by the spume, a spotty dog runs and scuffs tidal pools,
it scampers between weedy humps, a tangle of sea-scupper;
nose snuffling a tangy furrow in the sandy smaze.
Now the dawn sky breaks apart above and below,
let’s slip a far-off world as yet unmade.
Near or far seem only a fingerprint of wind and light,
a painted wave for distant viewing –
always a yonder truth
on the margins of nil and naught.
A dog
wanders down the road
sniffing
snuffling
head raised
suddenly
alert
to protect
why
* * *
A wall
built ten feet high
stone upon stone
brick upon brick
hides the outside
why
* * *
A crack
in the wall
craggy
splintery
light shines thru
why
Collection: Attaining Peace, Experimental
Written: December 2019
Shorn from arbor crowns by sharp northern breeze
Aging maple leaves curl like rumpled rugs,
Falling as stars amidst disrobing trees
Shivering in the face of hoar frost hugs.
A wee mouse sniffs wind which wakens his needs.
Snuffling with fury, tossing leaves about
To find nuts and seeds among grass and weeds
He scratches and scurries with whiskered snout.
His tit-mouse neighbor hurries to his spouse
Twittering that it’s time to fetch some seeds;
Together they gather and chase off grouse
To hide in the grass of murky marsh meads.
Furry gray mouse and tan titmice agree
To stay winter’s course in tunnel or tree.
10/29/2019
Contest: New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Fall
Autumn
Leaves of gold
Squirrels squirrel
their larders to fill
with nuts acorns fruits seeds
Hedgehogs start to hibernate
snuffling cosy place for to sleep
whilst Nature dreams of her Spring Parade
Written 25th August 2019
Contest Name Autumn or September or October Nonet
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Syllables Per Line: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Total # Syllables: 45
Mucking out and milking we are curds in the churn.
Our house is a blooming belly brimful and snuffling,
feet planted in the green rubber of muddy dawns.
A fox rapturously cherished a hen last night;
brown feathers speckled red fly now on the wind.
The patchy cat watches; it knows that we share
a dream guzzling tractor, with its rhythmus purr.
The tangy beasts are fed, the turkey and goose fatted.
Our meat squeals in the marketplace and struts to auction.
What is not eaten, wallows.
We live thigh deep, grub and plow;
partake in the love of it.
Over the hills I unroll my light blanket
Warming the earth
Reviving,refreshing and resurrecting
The sleeping colours
Where a solitary rabbit sits snuffling and still
Drinking in the sparkling rays of the sun
My palette painting his world
Bright,brisk and botanical
This is my destiny,this is my fate
To burnish,to beautify and to bless
What otherwise would lie dank,dull and dead
Out of sight but in my mind's eye
My one mistake sits whimpering
Gibbering mindlessly
Cursed with immortality
Doomed to shrivel endlessly
Making my memories
Of Tithonus,my lost love,
Cruel.
Knocking into a golden gate
A familiar face approaches
Staring and observing my fate
And it's tough for me to process
They let me in past the doorway
A thinness in the air embrace
The vision seems a bit starry
Wandering in this solemn place
Walking past in the grandeur hall
A hand guides me through a stoa
Marching with my hand on the wall
Snuffling scent of lush aroma
Reaching the end of the journey
A man queries with supple voice
Asking if I am that worthy
I responded yes with rejoice
With the increasing shriek of rooks
He patted me and confided
You are not written in the books
Then swiftly woke up alighted
Describe heaven Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
August 30,2018
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
brighter things in life
bioluminescence
woodlands singing
moonbeams dancing
clouds conducting rhythm
hedgehogs snuffling worms
the early bird sings
seagulls tap dancing
worms for breakfast
did you see
penguins flying over Wales
April fool
children having fun
hunting Easter eggs... their joy
bunnies job well done
rivers flooding
April showers... no... torrents
summer biding time
winter grey... its spring
fauna... flora.. begging
time waits for no man
moving on...
the North Atlantic
icebergs do
desert penguins
remember this very day
April fool
rapids frothing
dippers diving seeking food
lambs bleat for ewes
crazy moments
mom... mom... there's a ufo
one day of summer
looking
over shoulder
spring... just checking
~~~~~~
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