Come and read about my jackknife for my father in the dusk of a summer evening many years ago… delighted to see it published on Poetry Breakfast today.
Xox tricia
September 1st
The obligatory backpacks bought,
The sectioned notebooks and the cornucopia of Sharpies,
Heralding the dull march back to classrooms, schedules.
In its forlorn wake a trail of
Unhurried pancake breakfasts
And lying perfectly still on a sun-scorched dock,
Until perhaps trailing a finger,
But only one.
September 2nd
Boats pulled out for the season
Children rushing to school
And like a switch was flipped overnight
The water in the bay now darker
Deeper
A poem I wrote in honour of the summer.
This Instead
There’s a hole in the sprinkler
and the patio needs swept
but not now.
Let’s use summer for something else,
do what people used to do
in sunshine.
Lie together on old blankets
beside a river we happen upon.
Stare up at the blue holding hands
blurting out whatever comes to us.
Time will have no sway.
We’ll just lie there
for hours.
Let the day take us
until we are counting
the stars.
Always be a poet. Even in prose.
— Charles Baudelaire.
In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]
Nothing Gold Can Stay: A Mother
and Father Remembered.
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A sequence of my poems has been published in a hardcover book entitled The Music of Leaving Poems by Tricia McCallum
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Thanks for sharing