Saturday, February 9, 2019


Turning Point

 
There’s a point at which you turn a corner
set your course with a compass rose
reach for a long last leg of your journey
hoping a favorable wind will blow

you’ll sail through winter into spring
then succumb to sudden frost snow falling
on daffodil stems succulent still 
though chilled erect then drooping wet

you’ll come ashore in time for cherries
strawberries raspberries blueberries beans
rhubarb pie. salad greens, peas more beans
figs, plums, apples for stock, spuds, parsnips, sprouts

when winter’s done summer will come there’s spring
even though a blizzard blow and sudden snow



Dick Russell
copyright (C) 2019

Monday, February 4, 2019

February

for Persephone


Everywhere bulbs awakening
beginning to bloom
when sudden snow  then ice crust 
sunshine snow drops   rainbows

& even though she was not there
I was seeing what I intended to see
Spring rushing in before March molests
with sudden frosts nipping her breasts  




Dick Russell
copyright (C) 2018, 2019

Saturday, February 2, 2019

Vin de Noir


As darkness fell
two daffodils gleamed
in January just gone
near the path just dug
weeded of hyacinths
last year

As darkness falls
talk of two raised beds
down near the fruit tree
where parsnips failed
 in rich loam
infested with roots
from the apple tree

Vin de noir
served at sunset
long before dinner
walnut wine mixed
with cabernet



Dick Russell
copyright © 2019




For Tom Pickard

Did he ever tell you that same story
he told me?
when in want of  a grant
Yeats, Pound and Eliot: all three
supported Bunting and no grant was given

he’d keep whatever clout he had
to better support you
you had a good friend in BB

did you ever wander Wark Forest way?
those new plantations round Roughside
full grown now
hard hill country farms
better as forest
lonely cottages just like yours
only surrounded by trees
where short-eared owls patrolled rows of conifers
adders basked in the sun
some poetry was getting done.



Dick Russell
copyright © 2019





Remembering Roughside   A shiny wet slate roof was purple steaming to dry blue.  There was the sound of water dripping from a broken waste p...