One Person's Poetry
Business owner, lake dweller, muse, Lionel Tardif of Waterville and Belgrade takes inspiration from familiar lake scenes and from his observations of Nature, especially the changes of the seasons. Following are some excerpts from his collection of poetry.
Am I Here So I Can Write These Things?
A pair of bald eagles lifts off From my swamp front on a wind That’s twelve knots at the dock. Their wings stay stiff as aircrafts. They slip away, across the wind. They have to accept the cold And still spread their wings. Am I here so I can write these things?
Naming Your Boat
Half the reason for having a boat is watching it bobbing away in front of your modest frontage. If I wanted to be on the water I would go there, go anywhere, but now I’d rather watch it and read Maybe I should get in it and be on the water, and be anywhere on it, or not, just stay there. Her movement is so lithe, like the waves themselves, and she could be a projection of you in a jiffy, a trice. That might be a good name for her, jiffy. But it’s not true. Wooden boats take time. She could be Viking for her style, or Helga, after Wyeth’s true love or Jiffy or Trice, but those aren’t nice I’ll just watch Helga!
Leaves fall in the yard Some fall on the bench Slip through the slats, ad Lie on the covered porch floor. An hour before setting the sun Barely warms my back. Every leaf On the water seems a turtle’s head Until a zephyr turns them, shows They’re hollow. A few leaves glide On the current out of the stream. Mallard children, three females and A green head, come out first Behind me, towards the sun A big fish strikes. I turn, But there are no ripples.
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