Poetry 2
The Rogue Poem
Steve Evans
HAIKU GARDEN
The last leaves to drop
are beech. Stubborn to the end.
Still there in winter.
Cold rain. Spring left the
back door open. Wet leaves on
the newly washed floor.
Then an awareness,
the sudden gentle moment
of a beginning.
Steve Evans
HAIKUS
The purple crocus
closes its petals. Saffron
waits for tomorrow.
Pinchot Sycamore.
Quiet eyes, questioning heart.
Tears of pain and joy.
FOR JULIE
fragile body, strong
will, gentle message to us.
thank you is enough.
FOR JUDE
as time passes words
become less significant.
smiles are all we need.
Jared Peabody Hoke
HAIKUS
Ah! Your hand is
warm. The unexpected
nearness of you.
Larry Mohr
To My Friend, Will Stoddard
Now With Alzheimer's
When you tie a fly, Will said,
You must be sure that it is
As close to the real thing as
You can make it. It takes time
And patience, Will said.
You must be sure that the feathers
Or fur, or slivers of white and colorsAre true to life. It depends, he said,
On the season and the cycle of life
On the river. Sometimes you imitate
A May fly or the larvae that float
On the current. You must take care
Too that the thin, almost invisible
Line that binds the hook to the lure
Is tight and wound evenly.
No loose ends, but tight and perfect, Will said, and I believed him.When you cast a fly rod, Will said, You must follow a natural motion. You Cannot force the line from the reel. Instead, a slow flexing arc that Lets the rod do the work.
You must Take it easy, Will said, and let line And rod act like the branch Of a willow, pushed and pulled by wind. Control the line, Will said, And release only a little at a time Gradually until the length of line Is right
Release the line With care and not suddenly and You can place the fly exactly, Precisely in the spot where you wanted,Will said, and I believed him
When you fish for trout, Will said, You cannot do it from the shore. You must find the deep pools that Are beneath the rapids or in a still dark place beneath an overhanging elm.
You must go where they are, Will said, And wade into the stream until The water is dangerously close to The top of your waist high wading boots.
You must use everything you know of Flies, the season, the coolness of the stream And the time of day. Evening is best, Will said. You cast the fly to the spot you have chosen And you wait, playing out line, Reading the current.
You must wait For a time but then cast in another direction, Perhaps closer to the rapids.
You will catch a trout, Will said, And many times, waiting, casting, waiting, He caught large brown trout or smaller brook trout: He caught them and then he dipped them Back into the water and let them go.
Will said
that they should go on their way, free.
I believe him.
Steve Evans
as 1 ST (spiritual teacher) 2 A nuther:
Ty ming is EVEry ting.
Remember the biblical story 'the road to Emmasus'?
Where 2 really sad disciples
are walking from Jerusalem
(they lost their leader - on the CROSS)
and then AFTER he is SUP os 2 B
DED (palindrome intended)
SUDNLee
he is WaH King B side them &
they dont NO him.
They cant C him.
Yet they NO him
& then they SEE him.
the wait is the WEIGHT.
Waiting
I pulled the ticket out of my shirt pocket once again as the station board rattled the arrival updates.
The train was still late.
My ticket was still hopeful.
Sitting across from me were two women without luggage and eyes without sleep.
They sat open-mouthed and motionless for
several minutes, then moved to the end of the bench. They sat open-mouthed and motionless for several more minutes,
then moved to another,
then another bench.
The station board rattled again and I called my brother.
He would be waiting for me.
I wish for them a quiet place to sleep.