Poems about Progression

The Sugar Mule magazine published a couple of my poems.

Thought I’d add these to my blog.


Sunlight, clouded by dark sunglasses, 
pours over the green grass and dipping hillsides 
where cattle wade in muddy waters, old barns crumble 
and barbed wire fences line dirt roads. 
It shrinks, the pasture where brush is plowed under. 
Bulldozers level the meadows, planting rows of gas lines, 
ruts of electricity and paths of concrete
where no cows are tethered or horses wander free. 
Majestic oak trees give way to Bartlett pears, 
swing sets and rose gardens. 
The remaining Angus gather together in clumps
on the far side of the openness watching the building, 
the coming of civilization, while herds of Palominos,
near extinct beasts replaced by bicycles, 
watch the creeping face of progression. 

Uncertain Future

Stand next to the tall man
in the gray tweed suit
listen to the sound of the train
its feet bellows on
through the earth's deep soil
and shakes the windowpane
in the small-town church
striking fear in the hide
of the mongrel under the porch
of Aunt Bee's bakery
while Main Street's
culinary surprises
bounce on the counter
like a life led
on the train trekking
back and forth
between town and city
unsure of where it's going.

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