Neil Hoffmann described in a comment about the last holes of a golf course that it looked “like a giant’s unmade bed” – leading to the experiment of the poem below. Thanks to Brooks Carder for his recent piece “My Chat with Harry Truman,” which inspired me to search through the archives to see if he had written anything else, and, of course, Neil for his descriptive comment on Brooks’ piece from last summer, “A Father’s Personal Impressions of ‘A Little Slice of Fife’.”
He threw covers open each dawn,
almost with disdain
for the slight of being inadequate
and pulling up shy of cold feet.
The pillow,
a stone pounded
repeatedly through the night,
attempting to break free
a feather’s worth of comfort.
It is morning and there are
chickens to eat,
a fattened bull or two,
maybe a small wood for salad –
ain’t getting no younger,
gotta take care of
the one body gods gave.
He turns one last time
toward the glen of his slumber,
stretches with a mighty grunt –
taken as a fear inspiring growl
by the villagers in the valley below –
and step stomps away,
half-stupored by another
toss-and-turn night,
the earth quaking every move,
the ground battered and bruised
but resting
until he later decides on a nap.
| Copyright © 2021 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there. |
A wonderful poem by any standard.
ReplyDeleteIt is the immortal Old Course at St Andrews that reveals its crumpled terrain to the low light of the setting summer sun at 10pm.
Casting shadows 50 yards towards the golden limestone Royal and Ancient Clubhouse.
Lit up by the sun, full on its face for a few brilliant minutes.
As night comes creeping over the post prandial strollers.
Your description is a poem in itself. Thanks Neil!
ReplyDeleteHe turns one last time
ReplyDeletetoward the glen of his slumber,
What wonderful lines for a great poem. Takes me back to my studies of the giant's steps on the coast off of Ireland where it is claimed giants made their highway to its coast.