During Those Days

Remember when we were kids,

the spruce saplings in backyard acreage

we tore through those  – sticks and rage,

long before we misunderstood cyber-kids.

 

Back then, way back when, back in the day

we figured our lives were then forever

never imagined hearts we love might sever

would we really have to stay inside today

 

Simple solutions surrounded our lives when

everyone around, the supporters we did glean

at least that illusion gave us strength as a teen.

Nothing needed last forever way back then.

 

We were a now, an immediate satisfaction

long before ever a need for this gratification.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2020

Finding a Moment

 Go home and write
      a page tonight.
      And let that page come out of you—
      Then, it will be true.
– Langston Hughes
~
Though when time would suggest
it is an easy ask,
this only task we have in life,
is to speak our truths,
who it is we might be,
what we believe,
how it could possibly be
that all of our time spent
in speculation
just another round of
wanting to know,
to give us reason
to live our lives by,
understand the whole
no matter the loss of insight
brought upon ourselves
with some unraveled deceit.
~
Finding the words
the best way to relate my story,
glancing out windows
where my life once used to be,
sort of meant to be,
the picket fence round gardens,
dog running free,
children in a play set
being watched by
you and me.
~
My view is a spotlight
across a little street,
windows like my own,
yet different lives,
we all seem to share a similar
structure
meant to hold form
rather  beyond an original,
that formula had its way
for decades or more,
and now,
in an aging pattern
of recognizing our mortality,
here to stay,
this will be the remainder
of my game.
~
I would look for my children
for theirs are the memory
I reflect upon,
standing by the river
teaching them both
how to dribble a ball,
skate on ice,
master a bicycle,
show excitement when they search
my own eyes,
rather than letting them see
some pain I must hide
I would wish they feel
laughter and love,
an eternal fantasy in dreams.
~
For now would these words be
the reality I am ask to only seem.

© Thom Amundsen 7/2020

Ground Breaking Rules

When in childhood,

I once stood in the forest,

friends having descended the trail,

a night of surreal

exploration of the wood,

a morning fire,

a quiet reckoning.

 

Having forgotten a knife,

knowing it to be on a rock,

the rings of stone,

suddenly erupted

while coming upon,

the late night stories.

 

There is a blessing,

in the revisit,

perhaps a spiritual

guide,

a sense of

realizing Nature

needs such attention,

as my barely covered

feet stamped out

a reality of tragedy.

 

The reception of my friends,

a fatigue of waiting,

I recalled the story,

their laughter infectious,

imagining

if we had all been part of

an innocent scheme

to wipe out wood,

kept the lives of

eyes that met our silence

in the quiet of night.

 

We all do face our demons

in vivid flames of abandon.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

Always This Laughter

I remember even in the darkest days, your smile would remind me,

a life exists beyond the torment of our own self pity,

we must relish the beauty of the day, and focus on the love we share,

together in this moment with each other nothing else matters.

I would brag about your prowess with the crossword puzzle daily,

feel pride when’the rest of the story’ would echo Paul Harvey

the radio sound in the background whenever the afternoon sunlight

burst through the room. I remember you were there, content

in your quiet and reflective aura, the one that drew us all to you.

We were all in love with your spirit, your intellect, your ability

to see the future without having to define anything beforehand.

We just waited and listened and loved the melodic nature,

your wisdom our gift, our privilege, a heartfelt truths, we were

blessed to be raised with as every season of our lives

became yet another passage of time. We did find love in you.

We did feel fortune in the two of you and how we became,

all of us a part of you, in memory of pensive smiles, we continue.

While dad led the way, all of us quietly knew he was as fortunate

as any of the five of us to have you as our matriarch,

the now silent fury of passion that drove your mind to exemplary

forces of will to teach all of us to believe and know true love.

I can hear you laughing, we can hear you laughing because in a flash

we know you are love, we are blessed to be a sketch of your love..

I Teach

tree

photo by Andrey Bobir

***

August smiles,

brilliant fall colors

give pastel accents

to carve a path home.

~

Aging, beauty

to present a state of mind

delightful, happy,

invigorates our energy.

~

For now

reflection is immediate

only a moment’s glance

suggests sweet shelter.

~

Doors will open

anticipation screams through

the distant halls

recalled, fresh, familiar.

~

new faces, elders,

mindsets triggered

by ‘best practices;’

a ‘carpe diem’ … pause.

~

The reality is

as maples, oaks, poplars

turn

bold as our children.

~

We teachers delve,

avenues of knowledge,

not only selfish pride

yet, guidance with love.

~

Drop quiet in our eyes,

share stories, similar grasp,

capture our mood,

enhance our last …

~

As the autumn leaves, our time

moves forward; imagine new fires.