Monday, February 27, 2017

Saturday Somewhere by Ronald Moran

Now my palladium window is blocked by
                        a ferocious oak,
and my lawn is compromised to its roots
                        by its
unwitting partner, a resident mole, as if
                        they schemed
to discredit any hope for Yard of the Month
                        in my
cardboard neighborhood, which, of course,
                        I love––
my Jane having lived here for eight years––
on this Saturday, my weekend plans look like
                        a tabula rasa.
After so many years alone, you'd think,
                        Hey Ron,
get over it, accept it, get on with your life,
                        to which
my response is, What, after my 80 years?
                        I still
dream of my Jane, not in my usual dark
but, ordinarily, my wanting to get there
                        with her,
but the elevators don't work, the commuter
have closed their doors, yet we are ready
                        to embark
on an adventure to a land we do not know
                        but hope to.

Ronald Moran lives in Simpsonville, South Carolina. His poems have been published in Asheville Poetry Review, Commonweal, Connecticut Poetry Review, Louisiana Review, Maryland Poetry Review, Negative Capability, North American Review, Northwest Review, South Carolina Review, Southern Review, Tar River Poetry, The Wallace Stevens Journal, and in thirteen books/chapbooks of poetry. Clemson University Press published his Eye of the World in the spring of 2016. He has won a number of awards for his writing. He will be inaugurated into Clemson University's AAH Hall of Fame this spring. 

1 comment:

  1. Ah, Ron, your poems get me every time. You don't mess around, but dive in and swim, surprising us with where you end up.