Friday, May 31, 2024

Returning Home

Cool air, sky blue and white

clouds, a hint of gray on their undersides.

 

I have returned to grass to cut,

plants to plant in the box garden.

 

Amazed at how the body shivers at the end

of May what would be ignored in December.

 

I am a creature who knows the touch of nature,

who gets accustomed to the weather,

 

who is surprised when the end of May does not

feel like the beginning of June.

 

I think how easily I make expectations,

how often they’re not met

 

how I am to hold what I am given

nothing more, nothing less.


-Byron Hoot

 hootnhowlpoetry.com


Thursday, May 16, 2024

Sometimes True

 I see one sparkle of dew on the grass

to greet me.  Some say a sign of rain

when no dew shows in the morning.

Yesterday, I was greeted by my trash

scattered in my yard, bags ripped

by a bear who turned my garbage can

over.  What is the adage for that?

A roaming bear visits to leave its 

roaming spirit.  Beware?

An adage is reverse language 

engineering, not necessarily 

created from conclusive facts

but enough similar occurrences

to generate some logic to fit 

a pithy saying to sounding as 

if spoken by one with authority 

the empty echo not recognized.

The single blade of grass still 

holds the dew drop.  There is

no garbage in the yard

though I can’t deny the echo

of a growl I think is mine.


-Byron Hoot

https://hootnhowlpoetry.com


Saturday, May 4, 2024

The Only One

There are many things I would have

preferred differently.  A lifelong marriage,

happy endings to stories that could not

end happily.  A body not given over to decay,

no threats of loss of memory, a better ability

to feel and speak and listen and hear.

A more savvy provider.  A better father, writer,

friend, hunter, fisherman . . . the list is not one

I care to write down.  One more – one who

understood love better.  That the first and 

last item on the list.  May be the only one

that matters.


-Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com 

Roses in a Vase

Fresh red roses gifted crisp in a shiny crystal vase, Deflated balloon danced gaily on its bobbing string, Yet, spent no time or change for ...