Old King

"After I'm dead I'd rather have people ask why I have no monument than why I have one" - Cato the Elder

We buried our dog Mason
in the backyard
under a bush of Rhododendron
below my bedroom window.

In the summer time,
I sometimes think
the rabbits are still afraid
of his barking.

We buried him with love.

Buck Knife

I will always remember
the first deer we dressed
in Nate's backyard
& how I could see
the fear in his eyes.

Let us be grateful to God

It is my birthday,
& there is a bouquet
of white Dogwood flowers

sitting in the sound hole
of Grandpa's old guitar.
I hear three chords strum,

the gentle breeze
rubbing the tree limbs
in Mom's front yard.

I watch my dog Turbo
howl at a gray squirrel
perched on a telephone wire

& I remember the smell
of Aunt Mary's funeral,
the blossoming daisies.

Caprimulgus vociferus

The whippoorwill is calling.
It is Why I Wake Up Early.

The whippoorwill is calling.
Walden is alive.

The whippoorwill is calling.
Dolly Parton is singing.

The whippoorwill is calling.
Appalachia is still poor.

The whippoorwill is calling.
Whip-poor-will. Whip-poor-will.

Coffee From A Canteen (Fair Trade)

Many poets carry

a small notebook & a pen

with them at all times,

so they can quickly photograph

the world in inked imagery

as they wait in roadside cafés

for their organic soy lattes.

I hate to write in front of people.

I prefer to be alone in the woods,

writing lines before anyone else

is awake, when the percolated coffee

is not yet ready.