Old Wisdom Will Save Us
Blade striking rock, I hear a twang
like a tuning fork in the ancient river bed
that holds our garden’s deposit
of measly, friable earth.
Below I find black clay so dense
the handle of my shovel
judders against my hands.
I scoop the viscous clay into a ball,
then pull forth an antediluvian head.
Its hooded eyes weigh my worth,
as I form each horny scute of shell.
From the compost pile,
the tortoise gains purchase
on the river’s canyon wall,
each toenail inching an eon,
the world upon her back.
In the Service of Hope
Widows and widowers come to see
the unexpected beauty of the dead.
Wheat celosia’s silken pink plumes,
now leached of all color,
transfer seeds to the frozen earth.
Our winters are not hopeless
but stark as the mourning
we must go through.
At the western gate of death,
those who are left
wear white and carry life.
Sight
The expression found
in anyone’s eyes
is brimful as the possible
world of tiny algae
crowding a drop of pond.
Like seeing a familiar face
upside down—his smile
could be a frown,
and his nostrils flare like eyes.
People seen through a dark glass
are indistinctly threatening.
Love is a kind of hope
in the infinite possibility
of good sight.
Patricia Barone has a poetry collection, Future Rounds the Curve, forthcoming from Blue Light Press. She published a poetry book, The Music of this Ruin with Taj Mahal Review/ Cyberwit in 2021. The collections Your Funny, Funny Face and The Scent of Water were published by Blue Light Press. New Rivers Press published Handmade Paper. She published a novella, The Wind, with New Rivers Press. Her short stories have appeared in anthologies by Wising Up Press, Peter Lang, Prentice/Merrill, and Plume/Penguin. American Writing and West Wind Review have published her stories in periodicals. She has received a Loft-McKnight Award of Distinction in poetry, a Lake Superior Contemporary Writers Award for a short story, and a Minnesota State Arts Board Opportunity Grant for a workshop with the Irish poet, Eavan Boland.
Blade striking rock, I hear a twang
like a tuning fork in the ancient river bed
that holds our garden’s deposit
of measly, friable earth.
Below I find black clay so dense
the handle of my shovel
judders against my hands.
I scoop the viscous clay into a ball,
then pull forth an antediluvian head.
Its hooded eyes weigh my worth,
as I form each horny scute of shell.
From the compost pile,
the tortoise gains purchase
on the river’s canyon wall,
each toenail inching an eon,
the world upon her back.
In the Service of Hope
Widows and widowers come to see
the unexpected beauty of the dead.
Wheat celosia’s silken pink plumes,
now leached of all color,
transfer seeds to the frozen earth.
Our winters are not hopeless
but stark as the mourning
we must go through.
At the western gate of death,
those who are left
wear white and carry life.
Sight
The expression found
in anyone’s eyes
is brimful as the possible
world of tiny algae
crowding a drop of pond.
Like seeing a familiar face
upside down—his smile
could be a frown,
and his nostrils flare like eyes.
People seen through a dark glass
are indistinctly threatening.
Love is a kind of hope
in the infinite possibility
of good sight.
Patricia Barone has a poetry collection, Future Rounds the Curve, forthcoming from Blue Light Press. She published a poetry book, The Music of this Ruin with Taj Mahal Review/ Cyberwit in 2021. The collections Your Funny, Funny Face and The Scent of Water were published by Blue Light Press. New Rivers Press published Handmade Paper. She published a novella, The Wind, with New Rivers Press. Her short stories have appeared in anthologies by Wising Up Press, Peter Lang, Prentice/Merrill, and Plume/Penguin. American Writing and West Wind Review have published her stories in periodicals. She has received a Loft-McKnight Award of Distinction in poetry, a Lake Superior Contemporary Writers Award for a short story, and a Minnesota State Arts Board Opportunity Grant for a workshop with the Irish poet, Eavan Boland.