The Vibrant Channeled Creator

Jan Hutchinson has been delighting us with daily prompts for Poetry Month. Today’s poem should sound like a child wrote it.

“Your hair is red,
Your hair is black;
I see it now as blue.
Soon we’re back

To brown and then
Your hair is green:”
Crayons in Crayola Box!
Hair color fit for Queen!

( I scrutinize the roots for a mirror clue;
But find none, save: imagination!)

Wesley McNair
Poetry Laureate of Maine USA

Mangling a Proverb:

He is not wise that parrots the wise.

Wendy Videlock

Last night
we listened to
Wesley McNair
the Maine Poet Laureate
@the delightful Southwest Harbor Library.
He read:
“When She Wouldn’t”
a poem about his Mom’s death
a lost child
with complex family feelings from the Ozark’s.
Her language:
“Mo”
“This a way-that  a way”
“Goin’”
brought reconciliation and gratitude
in the end.

His notes,
written in longhand
told a harsh story
its grief
and glory.

Many poets read
when he had finished.

They parroted
the sentiments;
but mostly griped about the cold winter.

And thus,
left his wisdom in the snow

to thaw
its lonesome way home.