The Poetry Of...
Dwight Bitikofer.....................................
Pumpkins In The Patch
Sunday night sky
burnt orange
omen of autumn
full moon rising
- leaping gracefully -
into the deepening dusk
Tired shoulders
and aching back
from a weekend
others might have
played with and
I might have too
Personal guarantees
have proven naught
in this frenzied thing
called private enterprise
and at the last
there is only me and us
Here on the roof
outside my store-top office
I rest some minutes and watch
the burnt orange fade into dusk.
There is no "pie in the sky"
only pumpkins in the patch
poem in process:
Pigeon on the cross
atop St. Mary Magdalen -
means nothing I suppose
except in the summer slant
of evening sun
there was no crucifixion
just a juxtaposition
that made me notice
bird feet and folded wing
waiting high above
the busy intersection
for death
or resurrection
different
yet the same
according to the son
and then the arrow flashed green
and I turned left
Pipe Prayer on a Summer Night
the top spire
of the little spruce
rooted near the grassy bank
of the storm sewer
aligns perfectly in my vision
of an oak - the Old One -
on the hill down by the fence
the Old One spreads its branches
makes a living heart
below its high wings
that soar in perfect symmetry
with spirits of clouds
on a summer night
the symmetric imagery continues
beyond the shredded clouds
where a hazy star
makes a crown
and becomes a gateway
to galaxies unseen
We smoke the pipe
and send our prayers
of thanks giving and blessing
for the souls crossed over
and make our requests for guidance
Over in the woods
fireflies flash their lanterns
as if to give us glimpses
of the pathways we may walk
All things connect
and we are one
with the prayers, the trees
and all that is beyond
