Tuesday, October 18, 2016

From An Even More Apocryphal Apocrypha

The great spirit of
Humankind descended
Upon the world and cried out,
"What the heck am
I doing in all these bodies
And why are they so
Excited about each other?"
All the stars swept
Down to shed light on
The question and
Got snagged in a
Potted olive tree.
"Beats us!" they chorused.
So it's up to you and me, I guess.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Della's Pump Again

It's been 3 years since I posted this poem on"Invalid's Workshop" and now it's 11 p.m. and I've just come back from working on Della's pump again. This time, I had to run a hose across the field from my well to her plumbing so she could shower and flush etc. --fell down climbing over a wire fence and hurt myself! I then gave her phone numbers to call in the morning. I no longer solve submersible pump problems in the dark. That was a recreation for a younger version of me. But I was reminded of what it means to be a rural neighbor in this world and decided to repost the poem before the country is entirely paved and ruled by Home Owners' Associations.

His old mother's well quit
Quite in the dark.
Condenser, relay,
Romex rusted under weeds.
Here we chose our places
And our deeds--
Useful under stars, black trees,
Probing earth for logic
On our knees.