Fall frost threatens and from the porch
I save the pot of lush pink begonias.
They grow slowly thin on the sill
their pale discouraged threads.
Today at winter solstice
an oak tree
unfurls among the shreds.
You wily prophet
cast on this dour day
a blast of Easter laughter.
A poem for five men
..… to capture the flowing away of the world.
Dinner over, these five move to the deck.
One speaks, then another. They laugh, lean
on the railings, scan clouds, survey gold
at the finch feeder. Through glass I watch.
They are young, middle-aged, old:
husband, brother, son, grandsons.
I add up the years I have loved them,
a river of joy, fear, comfort, hope.
Splendid men caught
in the flowing
under sun and shadow
on this Easter afternoon.
As a child, Barbara Shisler loved reading and writing poetry. These days she lives in a retirement community, in Souderton, Pa., with her husband and Cairn Terrier. She continues to find writing a source of great pleasure. She has published several collections, most recently Momentary Stay (Dreamseeker Books).