Monday, February 5, 2018

                         73



Seventy three is a timorous age
unlike seventy-four
surer now of making eighty
pacing onward to a hundred or more
one run at a time there being no point
in aging prematurely
no need for a six
no need for a homer
no need for twos or threes
no need for antics
to get a run home
no need for a bunt
a jogged along
single
will do





Dick Russell

copyright © 2018

Saturday, January 20, 2018

            for Persephone


a pile of wood chips two truckloads no cash
what remained a steaming shoulder-high mound
long enough left greenery was grey ash

radiance in hyacinth's bursting bulbs
tight clenched green spears thrusting
aside layered chip mulch surging with life

hay-forked by hand wheelbarrow trip after trip
downhill up again sun glancing through clouds
a rainbow brightens 
                                     weary he worships
Persephone while ardent song birds sing
in slant sunshine sharpening seven tines
scraping his fork for a metallic ring

ever young Persephone smiling kind

she whom he loves returning to his mind




Dick Russell
revised version, January 2018

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

 Lilac Time, 2018                                   

                                            for John Berryman



Lilac time has come and gone
campanulas are over
bumble bees work summer flowers
fewer honey bees this year
fuchsia fronds on slender stems
cascading greens and browns
daubed with crimson
a hummingbird at sip

Lilac time is Berryman time
who wrote so he would survive
from one day to the next
but did not survive
cheerful projections he made
predicting
his own demise

he died one January day in Minnesota 
a most serious month 
no lilac found in his hand
no bees to bury that man
campanulas were over

                   ii

so we      who chose to combat life
are we any less than they?
who threw their lives away
thinking life hopeless

lilac time comes again
campanulas too

he died one January day
a most serious month 
three years before Microsoft was founded
when lilacs could not be seen in winter
even in digital dreams 
just picture books and paintings
and color TV

                                    & said Mr. Bones 
                                    don't forget The Movies


Dick Russell (C) Richard M Russell
                    2018, 2024

Thursday, December 7, 2017

                        Sleigh Ride

              
a sleigh ride over crusted snow
beside wolfprints that forked
at the hillside where icicles
glow in conifers  ingest starlight
sparse on the hillside
flung from a forest

an absurd urge to abscond her
willingly wantonly warm in his arms
a fantasy to meet her
pink
still aglow scant of garments
wrapped in mink

abduction’s a fact
a threshold crossed
no desire to turn back
impetus is all
now they’ve gone into the forest
seeking sanctuary

in the depths of dark trees
pine boughs covering tracks
where offering a caress
from rose petal lips
hips on hips
her bright blue eyes hamstrung his


                                                copyright © Dick Russell
                                                                     2017



Tuesday, November 28, 2017


The Stile




A path that led from a country churchyard
became a footpath over the fields
to a stile where Donal sat and watched
the sun tip up the night's dark shields

through clods of dirt he heard the footpath
resonate   thickened with composted leaves
suggesting earth's accretion
how from all things natural beauty leaves

rain divided evenly about the stile
sunlight pared through cloud
a rainbow arched above the hedge
song thrushes sang out loud




                 copyright (C) Dick Russell
                       2017, 2023

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