Poems

Poetry from PJ Klem’s/Poetry Walk

1/25/2025

Authors: Michael Keane, Heather Mair, Andrea Visione, Diana Lund

To the rustling leaves and the shouts from boys

I pedaled off, heedless, into darkness

The poetry running over and over in my mind

And my memories flowing like the river to another time

When the whip-poor-wills swayed and you felt nature surround

The embrace was magical

This life is magical!

I peruse the menu while dishes clatter in the background

Chilled from our walk, I’m thinking hot soup!

But, alas, my spirit droops

When the darkness descends

And the moon rises over the mountain

Shake it off! Come to! The server is here

With hot soup and bread, there is nothing to fear

Except that the provisions might run out

In which case, I return to society.

Across the wind-swept landscape

The hawk flew before lighting in a dead tree

All feels cold, or is it me?

A young girl twirls by the river’s bank

While water splashes over the falls

The irises on the banks leaned in as if to listen

Spring!! The irises shout! Spring is near.

The great thaw is upon us. The warm sun is so dear.

We looked back and didn’t want it any other way.

I bought the house because of the tree

The one that kissed the sky

And the other that hugged the earth

These trees bring me home to the wonder of my youth

We were brazen and brash, and sometimes uncouth

But not mean, never mean

Always best intentions

But, that road to hell. Is this that road?

Lucifer lost as He had foretold.

 

The Paper Boat

2nd place Winner, Illinois State Poetry

by: Bakul Banerjee

The paper boat floated down the stream.
Why do I remember its crimson sail?
Or was it the setting sun that colored it?
You wrapped your palm around mine.

As I dug into the mud, my feet wobbled.
The paper boat floated down the stream.
Your right arm was by me. I leaned
to you on an impulse to steady myself.

Distant thunder and lightning neared
with pelting rain. The stream swelled.
The paper boat floated down the stream
faster. The wet white sail crumpled.

I willed myself into an implausible reverie.
The boat and I became one. How did I know
that it would be a vanishing memory?
The paper boat floated down the stream.