FROM ON THE ROAD

TWO POEMS WRITTEN AT HOME

YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED a bit of extra breathing room between the last posting of JUST NOW and this one. Well, that’s because I’m on the road these days, traveling under the startlingly blue skies of New Mexico.

Just seeking a change of view – how about some mountains, and this incredible sky? And some winter weather – without worrying that society will come crashing down, as it did in Texas almost exactly a year ago. And all this with the company and comfort of good friends along the way. I said good-bye to Blake and Lynne yesterday, and now Terri and Robert are being kind enough to put me up and put up with me for a few days, and then it’s on to Janine’s for a few days more, and who knows what and where after that.

All this to say, it’s taken me a while to get this post completed. So, thanks for your patience. It’s short and sweet. I hope you enjoy.

ONE OTHER THING. I’m already working on the next post of JUST NOW, and I’m really excited about it! It’s going to include an audio feature! Which means you’ll be able to listen to me reading the pieces in the post as you read along. If you want to. So, keep an eye out. It’ll be on its way soon. Until then . . .

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WREN

That bird
singing the sun up
chased away the tiny fledgling 
of my poem
with its rackety greeting.

   Bill Jeffers
   2/10/2022

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MORNING PIECES

The table on the side porch
covered in night’s last shadows
sits waiting for its breakfast:
a mug of hot coffee, notebook, pen,
and this old man’s quiet company.
__

The crowd of candlesticks on the dining room table,
red and green from Christmas, stand slightly cock-eyed 
in their various holders, gawking 
at the Seuss-esque yellow bubble flowers bobbling
from the two small vases in their midst.
__

On the blue patterned platter in the middle of the table
the two Anjou pears sit, perfectly proportioned
beside the luscious, ready to bite red apple
the size of a small volleyball, perfectly ripe, 
as they have been, to the delight
of everyone who’s picked them up
to feel their feather lightness
and hear the gourd seeds rattling inside
over the past nearly twenty years.
__

Now imagine all of this – 
sun-warmed, with the door wide open, later
on this mild mid-winter day, the light pushing in 
from the west, gold against the face of everything – 
and not far away, fat night, her thin gown swirling,
heading our way on her ceaseless walk around and
round our day after day world.

   Bill Jeffers
   2/10/2022