• Robert L. Giron

Issue 72 — Jacqueline Jules, Merrill Leffler

Jacqueline Jules


Hours


A milestone birthday approaches,

and my husband asks what I fancy.

A gold bracelet perhaps?

Diamonds? Pearls?


My pirate heart has one desire.


Hours


altered by alchemy

into a commodity like coins

to clink one by one

into a strongbox,

hide under the floorboards,

protect from thieves.


Hours


I can count and caress

late at night

when my fingers itch

with all they have yet to hold.



Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Jules.



Pedaling Truth


The longer I ride,

the less stable

truth becomes.


Blind bats and

mice preferring

cheese to chocolate

have been debunked

along with chopped earthworms

that grow again from two halves

and mothers who raise children

immune to disappointment,

illness, and grief.


Too much of what

I once pedaled faithfully

is now a flat tire

on a rusted bicycle.


Searching for other myths

to keep my wheels inflated

I find comfort in the hum

of spinning spokes,


reminding me

that what hurts now

may not always be my truth.



Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Jules.



Jacqueline Jules is the author of the poetry chapbooks, Field Trip to the Museum (Finishing Line Press) and Stronger Than Cleopatra (ELJ Publications). Her poetry has appeared in over 100 publications including ArLiJo, Poetic Voices Without Borders, and Gargoyle. She is the author of thirty books for young readers. Visit www.jacquelinejules.com


Visit this author's homepage at www.jacquelinejules.com


Merrill Leffler


Breakfast



In memory of William Stafford




This morning I'll skip the bacon


and eggs and have a poem over light —


two or three if you don't mind.


I feel my appetite coming on.


And even a stack of flapjacks


which I love — with butter


and boysenberry jam spreading


their fingers of sweetness over


the ragged edges — won't do me now.


When this hunger's on, only a poem


will do, one that will surprise my need


like a stranger knocking


at the door (a small knock — at first,


I hardly hear it) to ask directions,


it turns out, to this house. He's looking


for me. Who are you I ask? Your brother


he says, the one you never knew you had


or the one who you've been trying to remember


all your life but somehow couldn't recall


until now, when he arrives. And there he is


before me smiling, holding out his arms


— and all this by chance. Do you


believe it?


So serve me up a poem friend,


but just go easy on the tropes,


for instance, synecdoche and such. A simile


or two is fine and metaphor's all right.


A rhyming quatrain, maybe on the side


would be ok, but not too much —


they sometimes give me gas.


God I love a breakfast such as this.


It gives me a running start and keeps me going


through to dark when I'm as hungry as a horse.


But that's another poem. Let's eat.



Copyright © 2012 by Merrill Leffler. Reprinted by permission of Dryad Press.



Biography:

Merrill Leffler, currently Poet Laureate of Takoma Park, Maryland, is the author of Mark the Music, his most recent book. He has been active in the literary life of the Washington area as a publisher and teacher for more than forty years.



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