Poems by Adults

by Irene Cantor, 2023

Cloudless blue sky, day alive and bright .

Savagely altered into gray night.

A President calmly teaching his flock,

Innocence stolen before nine o’clock.

Towers almost touching the sky, Cruelly felled as we wondered “Why”.

Our people, though shattered by the vast devastation,

were strengthened by Rudy’s determination.

Seeing the President, bullhorn in hand

Inspired Americans to take a stand.

Old Glory waving proudly from cars East to West,

As our generation would be put to the test.

September Eleventh Two Thousand and One,
An ordinary day when it was begun,

But changed in an instant by that act of war,

When we were reminded, freedom’s worth fighting for.

by Benjamin Thomas Brehl, 2023

For most of this long and perilous trip,
Grandest feeling came following a lost grip.

The calm and balm felt after a frightful storm,
Cool breezes of tranquil aftermath, yet warm.

The fear, dread while in the mental tempest  –
Thought of Ultimate quit, peeks into the abyss.

In its stead, the journey has evolved into a Joy;
Vanquishing terrors fallen to a rejoicing ploy.

Paralyzing moments – doom, gloom gone, rid,
Welcomed jubilation, newfound rest to bid.

The Great Orchestrator has placed a grin
On this spirit  –  heartened, ready for new begin.

Anonymous, 2023

I don’t mean anything to these people
These places
These things
I’ve always been a void filler
A moment passed
A time in their life
But never a solitary figure.
They look at me as disposable
Replaceable.
Compostable.
I try to plant roots
And they get mold
I try to plant roots
And they get cut
I just want stability
But no one seems to want me to stay
So I’ll go again
And again
And again
The hole inside getting bigger, larger, angrier.
I guess I’ll go.. you don’t need me
I guess I’ll go… you all don’t need me
I guess
I’ll
Go
I’m
Not
Needed.

by Adam D. Fisher, 2023

Morning light peeks

through strands

of gray clouds

left over from 

black night. As the day 

goes on, bright light 

brings out the vibrant colors

of yellow tulips until

the earth turns

leaving our world in half-light

until the sun seems to

descend into the western sea

leaving us in dark night.

by Irene Cantor, 2023

Oh, to be a child again.

The ebb and flow of the days, of the months… alas of the years.

Soon it will be your turn, my precious one, to take on the burdens and the joys.

But for now, your life is soft and cuddly and protected.

Oh my child, my dear child.

If you could only remember these times,

Not only for the happenings, but also for the feelings,

And deliver them to your own dear little ones.

Then the days and the months and the years will flow anew,

Oh, to be a child again.

by Adam D. Fisher, 2023

A haiku and two tankas:

1.

Red maple next to

shimmering water flames in 

early October. 

2.

Red cardinals, black

and white chickadees, brown and 

tan sparrows, yellow 

gold finches, house finches’ red 

heads, eat seeds at my feeder.

3.

Red kidney, black, white 

cannelli, tan garbanzos:

beans soak in a pot

like multi-colored pebbles 

in the water at the beach. 

by Jennifer Reedy, 2022

I am old

I am not skinny

My thighs are too thick for my calves

My belly hangs over my pants

I don’t care

I put on my pink canvas shoes anyway

I am learning ballet

I plie’ and bend

Yet struggle to rise and releve’

There’s fondue, to melt, like cheese & chocolate

Tondue, to stretch

Saute’ to jump

Music plays and my sore body creeks and pops

Balance

Hold

Breathe

Move

Lift

It’s exhilarating!

I strive to be as graceful as an elephant.

by Anne Kelly-Edmunds, 2022

September’s full moon
dressed in harvest hues
rose about the eastern horizon.
She beckoned brightly as I drove.
I followed until she lit
the foot path to my home.

October’s Hunter’s Moon
shone midnight bright
through out windows.
She woke me with the call:
Come out of doors.
Feel the moist air on your skin,
the damp earth beneath your feet.
I followed, witnessed her shining
arc towards the western horizon.

by Anne Kelly-Edmunds, 2022

Tight buds open,

        arch toward freedom.

Crimson wishes bloom,

        unfurl with hope.

by Charlotte Heotis, edited by Peter Heotis, 2022

I strolled along the sandy beach

My tracing the ocean could not reach

But when I look behind

There were only the sands of time.

So, it is with earthly things

We come, we go

Tears only memory we know

Rage and torment are for naught

And only peace and love not forgot.