January Light
Least favored month,
winter’s orphan, when
thoughts of April hibernate
nature’s colors dulled,
sucked dry of life. Morning sky
brushed pewter, alto-stratus
shroud atop bared oak
and maple – branches veined
in silhouetted black. The azalea
bush snugged close to ground.
The rhododendron’s leaves
curled in retreat. Yesterday
high wind, today dead
calm – in this neck of the woods
snow coming, certain as
you live and breathe. The black
squirrel knows, claws at frozen turf
for acorns cached last September -
the instinct to live another day.
Blue Smoke
The last yellowed leaves
from the Norway maple spiral,
dive and pirouette to ground –
hours of raking pyramid after
pyramid, the tedium of stuffing
bag after bag, the impulse
to light a match, to resurrect
the late fall smells from boyhood -
the bouquet garni of maple, elm and
oak in sweet burn, the twist of blue
smoke, the upward curl into
blue November sky, soundless
as the pause over this final mound.
Next door, the open garret window
the thump of heavy metal blues,
the whiff of dope - he must be
in his 40’s now, still sponging
off the old man, his baseball visor
backwards lest you miss the message.
I’m thinking, what would he know of
Son House and Bukka White, smoky
Delta blues, or the smell of leaves burnin’?
Krikor Der Hohannesian’s poems have appeared in over 275 literary journals including The South Carolina Review, Atlanta Review, Louisiana Literature, Connecticut Review, Comstock Review and Natural Bridge. He is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee and author of three books, Ghosts and Whispers (Finishing Line Press, 2010), Refuge in the Shadows (Cervena Barva Press, 2013) and First Generation (Dos Madres Press, 2020).Ghosts and Whispers was a finalist for the Mass Book awards poetry category in 2011. First Generation was selected as a “must read” by Mass Book Awards in 2021.
Least favored month,
winter’s orphan, when
thoughts of April hibernate
nature’s colors dulled,
sucked dry of life. Morning sky
brushed pewter, alto-stratus
shroud atop bared oak
and maple – branches veined
in silhouetted black. The azalea
bush snugged close to ground.
The rhododendron’s leaves
curled in retreat. Yesterday
high wind, today dead
calm – in this neck of the woods
snow coming, certain as
you live and breathe. The black
squirrel knows, claws at frozen turf
for acorns cached last September -
the instinct to live another day.
Blue Smoke
The last yellowed leaves
from the Norway maple spiral,
dive and pirouette to ground –
hours of raking pyramid after
pyramid, the tedium of stuffing
bag after bag, the impulse
to light a match, to resurrect
the late fall smells from boyhood -
the bouquet garni of maple, elm and
oak in sweet burn, the twist of blue
smoke, the upward curl into
blue November sky, soundless
as the pause over this final mound.
Next door, the open garret window
the thump of heavy metal blues,
the whiff of dope - he must be
in his 40’s now, still sponging
off the old man, his baseball visor
backwards lest you miss the message.
I’m thinking, what would he know of
Son House and Bukka White, smoky
Delta blues, or the smell of leaves burnin’?
Krikor Der Hohannesian’s poems have appeared in over 275 literary journals including The South Carolina Review, Atlanta Review, Louisiana Literature, Connecticut Review, Comstock Review and Natural Bridge. He is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee and author of three books, Ghosts and Whispers (Finishing Line Press, 2010), Refuge in the Shadows (Cervena Barva Press, 2013) and First Generation (Dos Madres Press, 2020).Ghosts and Whispers was a finalist for the Mass Book awards poetry category in 2011. First Generation was selected as a “must read” by Mass Book Awards in 2021.
