No more reaching with shaking hand Trying to quench my burning need. I go now to Angel’s land. I pour the first one with trembling hands Calm my nerves, my body pleads No more reaching with shaking hand. This is not the life I planned I cry over drowned dreams. I go now to Angel’s land. I tried to stop but can’t, I have this thirst that I must feed. No more reaching with shaking hand. My body no longer obeys my commands. I'm not awake, but I can't sleep. I go now to Angel’s land. Stumbling, falling, I cannot stand The bottle is empty. It's time to leave. No more reaching with shaking hand I go now to Angel’s land.
Opal still works in her Victory garden Even though disintegrating eyes Never see the green beans That match the weeds And unseen cucumbers rot Along with the peas. Standing out in the green wasteland Oblivious to the snake between her feet She spies a red round tomato Brushes off the dust Bites into it And it is good. 3rd Place Winner Poem or a Page Contest UW-Madison Writer’s Institute
When I was 12, my dad and I Watched World War II movies On Sunday evening The plastic flowers bloomed in their vase On the new console TV As the blood red sunset Gleamed through the picture window. In the black and white glow We were in the Ardennes That looks like the truck I drove, he would say. Dad never spoke about his days in the Army As PFC George Bardell, Cannoneer With three Bronze Battle Stars and a Good Conduct Medal Except during those movies. Yeah, that’s just how it was in the 268th ; No, we didn’t do it that way. He recalled, but didn’t smile. Today, silk flowers bloom in the same vase On top of the new large screen TV. Alone in the blood red sunset I watch the same movies. In the black and white glow The Ardennes forest echoes I drove a truck like that. I pulled a cannon. I recall, but don’t smile. 1st Place, Poetry 2004 Poem or a Page Contest UW-Madison Writer’s Institute
Iowa State Fair, August, 1933 Leonard asked me out again, this time to the Iowa State Fair When I said ‘No’ again, he said ‘I’ll match you a penny.’ I lost the coin toss. I said ‘I don’t care If I go out with you at all, this time or any.’ We strolled around the fair with Virgil & Ethel Washed down the August dust with ice cold ginger pop Inhaled the mingled hot dog, popcorn and animal smells Rode the bumper cars in a waterfall of sparks, before the sudden stop. The hot afternoon melted into a warm, humid night, Transforming the midway into a small, but bustling, city Filled with people laughing under the spinning, blinking lights. The carousel and ferris wheel flashing colorful and pretty. We sat close as fireworks splashed exploding rainbows. He whispered ‘Can I see you again?’ I thought, then said ‘I suppose.’ 3rd Place, Poetry 2004 Poem or a Page Contest UW-Madison Writer’s Institute