Featured Poetry Theme: Back to School
The Paths of Glory Lead. . . .
English, 1971 by Frank Pool
when you took us out that day
the street--the headstones of the graves
straight, or skewed, engraved with Thomas Gray
our memories, high school elegies
small town churchyards? Memory saves
small events; commenting on your marriage’s
strife, when I remarked that to run
your spouse would make “estranged bedfellows,”
smiled. And I am older now than you
then, I’ve taught for almost twenty years,
loved bright flashes of a girl’s eyes, or slow
steady progress of a boy to man who
that lesson so long ago you gave,
words outlast the weeping at the grave.
Measure Time by Cynthia Hudson
time. In days, weeks, months, years.
I was a child, my elders told me,
older you get, the faster it goes."
course, I didn’t understand.
meant nothing to me.
was too busy playing.
little school, some friends,
days of convenient routine.
I got a little older and got my driver’s license,
became more relevant.
many more years until college?
the whole spectrum of possibilities,
future was as vast and empty as the West Texas sky.
waiting made the years stretch by so slowly.
a time, I became complacent.
could drive anywhere, anytime.
was a middle-class American working wife
one day I realized that my spectrum of choices
largely been a product of the given circumstance -
a part of some greater plan.
became just what it was.
minute a minute. A day a day. A year a year.
of those passed.
day I suddenly became panicked.
missed all my chances.
of my choices had mattered.
spectrum had gone black and white.
all I could do was remember.
remembered falling off my bike on Lamplight Bridge when I was 12.
destroyed my knee,
got up and rode home anyway.
remembered that like yesterday.
over 20 years before.
well I remembered Randy
me out of the back of his El Camino
at Surfside Beach
carrying me over the threshold of womanhood.
well I knew how long ago that was!
lot of womanhood had happened in the blink of an eye.
years ahead suddenly pressed upon me,
to get past,
I took some action.
examined my life inside out
was happy to find much there to keep -
children, my home, my choice.
also summarily discarded much.
a long marriage and a lengthy employment.
spectrum again was broad and colorful -
the future was all over me.
surviving the pain of separation from that
I’d distanced myself,
future became less like a threatening Doberman,
at my heels,
more like an eager Sheepdog,
another five years have passed.
measure time by the size of my children.
futures beautiful and frightening.
they don’t notice.
too busy playing.
I only hope that I will look back some day,
I really am old,
find that I’ve filled the time well.
Because you're my Ava by Matt Wellon
for tremolo voice.
boy hell-bent on head
big wide gum smiles.
knew both of four of them.
were named ben.
did square roots
was so jealous.
fell for his lanky varsity team jacket
angel walks by too. (twice)
right by me with out looking
beckon to exit.
open my mouth wide
her blackandwhitecracklingfilm body
her cheeks hold words better than books.
of those people
once knew came over to the table.
a pent-up high.
1/2 and 1/2 milk packages.
you want to talk about movies?
i love the coffee, even though it tasted a little dirty tonight.
waitress ran out without bringing a check.
we paid anyway.
want to talk about food.
how my body becomes cream
she provokes me right.
i love her.