poetrywatch

When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.” — John F. Kennedy

Artwork by Hilary Cole

Boris Schleinkofer, poetrywatch editor

 

 

  • Subject matter is unlimited, but poetry featuring or specific to Whatcom County and issues addressed by Whatcom Watch (government, the environment and media) will likely get first preference.
  • Please keep it to around 25 lines; otherwise, we might have to edit your work to fit. Don’t make yourself unprintable.
  • Send poems and your short, two- or three-sentence bios as a word document attachment to poetry@whatcomwatch.org.
    The deadline is the first day of the month.
  • Please understand that acceptance and final appearance of pieces are subject to space constraints and editorial requirements. By submitting, authors give Whatcom Watch permission for one-time publication rights in the paper and electronic editions.

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BARNYARD CRUSH

by Richard G. Tucker

Horace was a well-proportioned 400-pound Hampshire hog. A handsome fellow, the most prized of his breed in eastern Pennsylvania. Only his grandfather, the legendary Bert, was of greater girth.

Horace had a good life, but for one thing; his hopeless hankering after the Angora goat, Sheena. Those rich curls, the sweet little nose, the dainty hooves, the soft floppy ears. Oh! The way the sun shown on her flanks when she stood on the roof of the rusty old pickup.

Today she seemed to glance his way, but then she was gone.

Soon the boy came across the field with the dinner bucket. The smells of aging banana peels, potato skins and cabbage wafted toward Horace, filling him with pleasure, all thoughts of the lovely Sheena receding from his mind.

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Richard G. Tucker has published work of this type before with Whatcom Watch and has several songs published with Peer Intl., for which he receives biannual royalties.

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Numberless blades of grass

by Marie Eaton

Eternity rolls out across meadows
in numberless blades of grass,
winter’s brown softening to verdant green
as spring spreads her lush blanket
across the hill.

Each small shoot a shout of
restoration and repair
in a wonderous cycle of rebirth.

In the swale, skunk cabbage
thrusts her yellow head up through mud,
unfurling yellow petals, to bloom
bright against a pale spring sky.

Cherry blossoms
toss pom-poms in the wind and fall.
Pink snow drifts into piles
along the lane.

All awakes
to this astonishing awareness
of continuing life —
in spite of the mess of it.

All hurt and sorrow
suspended for a moment of joy.

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Marie Eaton is professor emerita from Fairhaven College and is currently the Community Champion for the Palliative Care Institute. During this long Covid pandemic, she has found joy in a daily writing practice.

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