Cycle ride with clouds moving broken and dark, rain threatening
On reserve vapors ran out of gas by a town graveyard
Found a pencil and sharpened it on old stone
Walked on grass border of stone markers
Times of birth and of death
Family plots seem to tell tales of past lives
Felt the passing in cracks of gravestone and thunder
Amazed at how the years touch and wear the hard surfaces
A 1945 death, a sentinel of stone 63 years at attention
Standing guard appeared ancient
Even rock wears the touch of nature in time
Sat on stones of granite, placed with care and cemented into a wall
Which handsome and honorable fronts the Deerfield cemetery
Thunderclap and light rain as maple tree standing in spring attire
Slows drops and gives semblance of shelter
Past weeks gusty gestations blew strong and bits and pieces of flower
In haphazard arrangement dotted the lawn
Detached and free but now without set purpose
Lost from their places by lone stones
Gathered some and gave them order in bouquet
Found old grave site stone holding a child of three and placed them there carefully
Light sprinkles in a dry month are not enough to help thirsty grass
Found a bandage but not the size to patch the wound
A packet of plant food but not enough to make love grow
But the fortunate find of a marking tool, a gift from the gods
For one man under a maple by the graves on an old stone wall
Found he didn’t need gas, for there was lead in his pencil
© Captain Ken Pothier

Snowshoes and Sorrow

January thaw of feelings and snow

Break a trail on a lake’s surface-Snowshoes in the heavy wet white

Hard going on the trail and in how today touches me

Weight bearing down on broken path and sore shoulders

Left alone again

Reach out and touch

Earth Water Wind and Fire

Natural surround beauty eases the burden

Sorrow comes by and I say

“Hello ol’ friend”

You always arrive when dreams are broken, love distant

Worked hard to reach this day

Felt it would be one of pure joy

We will celebrate it somehow, my ol’ friend sorrow and I

Will not wallow in pain nor invite despair to this party

We will make a path and search for the Warrior, “Iron John” Butterfly

Pushed away we push on, gather what we need

Move forward; find reward in the motion, in the work

Feel this day, sweat and experience

Tangents, torrents of torment

Be Damned

Sorrow I will hang with awhile but never join

We will be colleagues in feeling life’s travails

Know how human a man is by how alive

His emotion, nerve ends and beginnings feel, in motion

Knowledge gained in not giving up, in the path made

We have been here before and always move on

Sorrow, a steady sturdy soulful companion

I stood barefoot in the snow

Took a breath and let it go