spring daylight lingers
longer through the evening
we talk video games
coasting down hills
our bike lights blinking
by James Brush
spring daylight lingers
longer through the evening
we talk video games
coasting down hills
our bike lights blinking
the silver bass guitar hangs on the wall
a life preserver on a transport ship
I remember notes so low unplugged
the mic on Zoom & Google Classroom
couldn’t pick up La Grange, Ceremony,
endless runs through scales & permutations
our cats crossed keyboards and kids
passed waving through backgrounds
but when we show only heads & shoulders
we could be rock stars, could’ve been
dying, afloat and silent behind our screens
clutching life preservers just off camera
I strum grateful fingers over thick strings
a warm and friendly rumble fading as I leave
to go back to work, begin the long uncertain
swim back to newly strange familiar shores
alphabet—
a barn swallow’s loops
in paper sky
my head is full of oceans
full of plastic
sea foam memories
pass for wisdom
sea green trees
whisper like grey waves
come home come home
trickle down through chest
and lungs and drown and drown
where plastic bits break down
where seabirds soar
and drift beneath the sea-
glass shards of stars
If I only had a brain (Thanks, Carolee!)
over there’s a rusted pipe
a candy cane in an open field
is it a searching periscope eye
or gaping mouth accusing?
barn swallows weave the sky
questions unfolding
you say stay still
we don’t need to answer
I wish I was the static
invisible between your stations
This is the end of this series that I started posting in 2019. The series originated in 2018 as sample poems I wrote with my students at school. I didn’t like any of them so in early 2019, I cut them up by line, by stanza, by phrase and collaged them back together into 10 poems most of which have titles related in some way or other to the history of the US Postal service.
Of course, I stopped writing for almost 2 years when I hit a snag on “Facer Canceller.” Couldn’t figure it out and couldn’t get on with much else writing-wise. Suddenly it was 2 years later. I finished the poem and picked up where I left off.
I’m still not quite sure how it happened. How it went so fast and took so long.
wind chime
the slow movement of clouds
between two trees
someone’s mask
crumpled in the field
pink primrose
everyone hoped
we would recover
but we got worse
& stronger
when the daylight wanes
& the moon grins
we are this and that—
blue with time
& forgery
we are trees tangling
between the shadow
& the sky
the wind tugs
at leafing trees
how they dance
twisting
in the sky’s grip
a new day
traffic cones & trees
in the fog