To Dad on His Day, Opening Day of Fishing

April 26th, 2008 Author: Steven

“The Ol’ Fisherman”
 In memory of Dad

Standing in alpine water,
Feet frozen in their
Wool socks and waders,
He raises a be numbed hand
To wipe his runny nose
And adjust the tilt
To the ol’ fishin’ hat.
For hours now he’s stood there,
Casting and retrieving..
Casting and retrieving….
Casting and retrieving……
Knowing deep down in his heart
That out there somewhere
Swims a trout.
A trout with enough
Hunger or curiosity
To give his fly a try.

I miss you dad.
Wish we were fishin’ today.

Love,
Steven

 

Popularity: 6%

Sierra Symphony

April 6th, 2008 Author: Steven

“Sierra Symphony”

The creeks are a flow
With the fast melting snow
Their voices echo off these canyon walls

While songbird melodies
Stream forth from the trees
Splashing the canyon with colorful song

The sharp alpine peaks
That surround my stone seat
Add to the soft intensity

And I sit as time slows
In this vast blooming rose
A minor player in this grand symphony

Popularity: 12%

The Foolish April Snowman

April 1st, 2008 Author: Steven

“The Foolish April Snowman”

Six foot tall he proudly stood,
and with a baseball cap, a rake, and

a glean in his charcoal eye, he
happily greeted the ladies that
came to get their mail.

He was born when four inches
of snow fell one foolish April day
and a whim came over me to see
what kind of man I could create.

Oh he was nice!
Big black eyes, a large nose
(that some say looked a lot like mine),
two cottonwood branch arms, and
a grin as large as this valley.
Oh what a beauty he was!

But, like all snowmen, his doom
was already written and it wasn’t
long before his fate was starting to show.

He made it through the first
cloudy day pretty well, with only a few minor facial repairs.
But as the second day dawned
and the blue sky welcomed back
the bright sun……
Well, let’s just say it didn’t take long.

Soon his eyes started becoming larger,
his nose began to grow smaller,
his grin became wider,
and his poor body just kept getting
skinnier and skinnier.

The look on his face finally became
so pitiful that I walked up,
and with a slight push, knocked
his head right off. (It was the only
humane thing to do.)
I guess you can say that
that was the end of his life.
But his body did hang around
for a few more days until it
too finally went away.

As I stand here now, a week
since the day he was born, I can’t
help but wonder where he now is.
I guess I know that part of him
is now flowing through the roots
of the grass that lay at my feet.
And part of him is helping to build
the clouds that fly above my head.

But I also think that part of him lives
inside of me. And it’s this part of him that’s just
waiting for the day when the snow will fall again
and he can come fourth and
bring himself back to life.

The Follish April Snowman (Born 4-1-98)


Popularity: 11%

What are my Poems

March 20th, 2008 Author: Steven

“What are my Poems”

They’re little fragments of
soul floating unconsciously
through the universe that lies
within me.

Occasionally,
Breaking free of the
Chaos that confines them,
They spiral swiftly
Upwards to the
Heart of the mind.

Where the knowledge
of language molds them
into art.

Popularity: 6%

Earth Journeys

March 14th, 2008 Author: Steven

“Earth Journeys”

Walking on a beach, I stop, pick up a grain of sand.
“Where did you come from?” I ask.
It replies:

“Once I was a mountain, forest covered,
my peaks reached for the sky.
Then I became a boulder,
on the backs of glaciers I rode for a time.
Eventually, weathered to a rock,
I was picked up by a swift stream,
to be deposited, as a pebble,
somewhere out in the sea.
Finally as a grain, I floated the currents,
north, south, west, and east.
Until one day, while riding a wave,
I was thrown
here, becoming a beach.
For millions if years I’ve made the journey
from rocky mountain to island sand.
Riding on glaciers, sailing the oceans,
oh the life of the living land.”

I lay the grain back on it’s beach,
wish it well, and walk away.

Popularity: 8%

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