Tag Archives: poetry

The night before I was watching the weather radar every hour.  Long lines of green crawling up from the south; bad news for us.  We wanted to float the Big Coal River in the morning.  My son and I communicated … Continue reading

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Evening Poem, February 2, 2022

I recently had a conversation with an old friend who had just bought a copy of the novel I published over 20 years ago. I hadn’t looked at that book in a very long time, so I picked it up … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, February 2, 2022

(I actually wrote this one a long time ago, but I remembered it lately and, after all, it is Groundhog Day, so let’s do it again.) – The people of Hot Springs, Arkansas Don’t have no cares about nothin’ at … Continue reading

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Afternoon Poem, January 19, 2022

Pappaw kept a lettuce bed behind our house There was a little rectangle of soil between the back wall and the alley Shaded almost every way He dug and hoed until the dirt was fine as sand And rimmed the … Continue reading

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From Dartmont to Lock Four

Take Two Posted on October 24, 2021 by labeak52 It’s a cool forty-plus degrees as we strap the canoe to the top of the SUV.  The thought that we might have waited a little too long to make this trip crosses my mind, … Continue reading

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Please Let Me Wonder

“And now here we are together…” Posted on August 25, 2016 by labeak52 The whole trip had been my idea, but it hadn’t been hard to sell. We drove 200 miles from Charleston, West Virginia to Roanoke, Virginia last weekend to see Brian … Continue reading

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From Dartmont to Lock Four

It’s a cool forty-plus degrees as we strap the canoe to the top of the SUV.  The thought that we might have waited a little too long to make this trip crosses my mind, but I dismiss it quickly.  My … Continue reading

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Learning To Dance

When Wendell Douglas come back from the war he looked to be about a foot taller.  He’d volunteered as soon as he was of age and shipped out right before the Allies took the beaches in Normandy.  He didn’t see … Continue reading

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Poem for August

It is always August. If time would stop, it would stand still Under the dog star. Winter lingers, but all of that season is labor Boots, gloves, scarves and coats Off and on, on and off Snow shovels and firewood … Continue reading

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Afternoon Post, August 5, 2021

When Wendell Douglas come back from the war he looked to be about a foot taller.  He’d volunteered as soon as he was of age and shipped out right before the Allies took the beaches in Normandy.  He didn’t see … Continue reading

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