Poems that whisper, "Hey, look at that."
Celebrating two moments, and one milestone
Milestone
Today marks the 100th time that I’ve published poems here on Substack. At whatever point in those 99 weeks1 you signed up to be part of this adventure, I’m endlessly grateful to you for reading, and for finding a way (when you do) to tell me your thoughts and feelings about what you’ve read. As a token of my gratitude …
Moments
… I present you with (surprise!) two small poems, one new and one not so, unrelated in theme and content, not a single Issue explored between them, each busy doing its best at what I most love a poem to do: looking at a moment, maybe especially a moment that nobody else has time to look at right then, and describing what’s going on.
2025 Morning light silvers a mist of seagulls, twenty or more, each floating a circle against the morning sky, the circles linked, tendriled together like feathers of fog. Now and then a cry, now and then a crow flapping unwelcome through the mist, but mostly the mist itself, the silvered dancers each alone and all together, the fog of their tendriled dances floating slowly, slowly west, to circle over the sea.
ON FENTON STREET 2001
Old man, thin face folded like bark,
hands a green tennis ball
to the strollered child with cheeks like the moon.
Mother singsongs thank-you and delight,
moon-cheeked child stares moon-eyed,
old man totters up the sidewalk.
Brown bark, golden moon,
globe greener than apples or leaves,
loving chorus of wonder
for the gift a stranger gives for no reason.Thank you
No, really. Thank you. I’m supposed to say that I would write poems whether anybody was reading them or not, and in fact I can truthfully say that, but here’s what else is true: being read, and being in conversation with readers, is a whole-life upgrade for a poet … this poet, anyhow. You’re making more of a difference than you can imagine. So thank you, a hundred times at least.
I’ve published my own poems for 99 Wednesdays in a row, plus an extra audio-post (10/25/2024) for Tara Penry’s “Poems to Carry in the Blood” project, where I read an excerpt from a work by Seamus Heaney. Noodle around in the Archives section of my main Substack page and you can find it all. No paywalls!
happy 100th week! How amazing! And thank you... so often, I am entranced by a moment. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to catch it in a photo, or share a word picture on Facebook. It seems important, all of it: the moment of noticing, appreciating, wonder, rejoicing; the attempt to capture it in some way to preserve it; sharing it with others, either by just sitting together and looking at the photo or telling someone, or taking advantage of the miracle of computer networks to show it more widely; and the chance , in preserving it, to come back to that moment.... it's all very magical, a chance to embrace the Divine, in our humble human way. Thank you for sharing yours!
"moon-cheeked child stares moon-eyed,"
I love the music of that line!
also: "tendriled together like feathers of fog."
Both of these poems are delightful, catching those specific moments with such visual clarity.
It's so true that I'd write poems if no one read them but that having readers and conversations about poetry takes it to a new level.