From his Seniors Home
window an aged man smiles

remembers being
a kid of twelve, stepping
over limbs beside the creek

blue eyes still bright and
inquiring, an eager boy under
wrinkles of flesh

speckled trout, sweet
smells of summer calling—

twitch in his willow pole,
clunker of a catch
mouthing the dew worm

ma noticing well-traveled jeans,
“Need washin'," always said

mud-caked from sunny
days on old Ogden’s Creek.

Memories, never shy away.

 

 

This is the Second Prize Winner of Cha's "Void" Poetry Contest. Read a description of the poem by Richard L. Provencher here. [Read Daryl Yam's commentary on this poem.] [Return to the "Void" section.]