Patricia L. H. Black has again given permission to share two of her poems:

FARM POND

A dawn-tinged ruckus rose on the pond

where a dozen migratory geese laid over

for the night. All but one were circling and

circling, calling to a lone waterbound goose

beating the water with one wing, the other

damaged in a night-predator attack. Again

and again, her mate splashed down to her,

then returned to the circling skein. Migration

imperative kept pulling the ring of geese

southward. They cried encouragement till finally

instinct overrode their distress; they lined out,

headed away. Her mate stayed for a few minutes

then, torn, surged after the departing fliers.

I could not tell if his cries said Wait!  Wait for me!

I’ll be back!  Or Good-bye. I’m sorry! Farewell!

Patricia L. H. Black, 2023

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STOPPING BY WOODS ON A BLOWY EVENING

Whose woods these are I do not care

His house is in the village where

he is inside, toasty warm.

I only wish that I were there.

I wish that Robert would reform,

stop acting so outside the norm

by having these poetic spells.

I wish we both were somewhere warm.

I think I’ll shake my harness bells

so that the brassy sound impels

that dreamer in the driver’s seat

to notice how the cold wind yells.

The woods are dark and I am beat,

the snow is turning into sleet.

I’ve miles to go before I eat;

I’ve miles to go before I eat.

–Patricia L. H. Black      2023