Friday, August 31, 2018

FIDDLE, BANJO, and GUITAR


Open windows carry the sound of
A fiddle and banjo played louder
Than the cicadas’ drumming songs
Or the hoot owls’ calls
For Saturday Night revelry
In overalls and house dresses
Damp with summer’s long days. 

A guitar, slung over the shoulder,
Rests on a knee bent for a low chair
And pillows spread out on the floor
In a candle light’s golden glow.
Bare feet and the light-fingered strum of
New-born songs wander onto a balcony
High above the street with voices raised
To roof top rows
In a moonlight’s somnolent flow. 

Unrecorded rhythms and rhymes
Set to air and left to thread their way
Unguided across the girth of stars,
Unleashed to rise and fall,
Spread out to fields and alleys,
Sail towards a horizon
Where some standing still and far away
In the night
Might hear a phrase that
Has never been played or sung
Before or after. 
 

© cmheuer, 2018


Thursday, August 2, 2018

RIVERSIDE

To sit beside a river near the lap of shallow waves
where water smooths out the sand.
In the distance a deep channel
carries motor boats and mariner winds
up and down the currents for the pleasure of it,
for the bounce of the bow,
for the dip of the stern,
for the stiff blast of air against the face
that drowns out phonetic sounds with a motor’s roar.

To sit in the middle of a river on a dry boulder
where water rushes past large stones.
Wild, overgrown banks are set in motion  
by wind-blown branches,
shores are close enough to call across,
a bridge is low enough to see
anyone standing beside the river bed,
and it is shallow enough to walk across
when there are long droughts and dry wells.

To sit on a curb and watch river water
flood historic districts and tobacco warehouses.
Its overflow rises to the tops of street signs
that serve as underwater map pins
set afloat like channel buoys
to mark bateau boats unearthed,
slave auctions hushed,
warehouses burned, and  
African American burial grounds paved over.

To sit by a riverside remembered
and pause the water’s flow.

©  cmheuer, 2018