Lowell Jaeger Verse-Virtual 2016 April

April 2016

I live only a stone's throw from Glacier National Park. I love to hike and explore the out of doors. I've been teaching creative writing at Flathead Valley Community College for 32 years, and I still like my job. I have six books of poems published. My seventh book, Or Maybe I Drift Off Alone, is looking for a publisher.

woodcutter’s breakdown

the saw choked when its chain snagged
having torn a tall larch
halfway to the core

i’d guessed which direction wrong
this giant
would give way

the cut closed
i fell backwards
scrambled clear
and woke that instant
cowed on the forest floor
the saw’s moan floating skyward

so much noise i’d made
to muffle over losing you
so much work to be done
i’d refused to grieve

the saw smoldered
stuck fast in wood that bit back

clouds puffed and floated past

i felt the eyes of the forest on me
the listening of a thousand trees

and cried like a man cries
silently
where no one sees

world lit

we were discussing the protagonist
his heart
overrun with bitterness

a long silence
washed across the classroom
as each of us felt his pulse quicken

and i confessed i’d been betrayed
in love recently
remembered shutting the alarm off
months of mornings
wanting to pull the blankets over my head

i was sorry the instant i’d spoken
but tumbled forward asking
what was it
so unnerved me

someone nodded
they’d felt the same
then each pair of eyes in turn
lit with recognition

the chill of waking from a dream
the daily gut ache of dashed expectations
and like our protagonist
the rueful habit of loving a difficult world
though it seldom loves us back

wishing on a white horse

my wife and i risk death
driving home over ice and snow
late morning new year’s day

unrelenting sun on shifting drifts
slicing my optic nerve
and the only shades i own
left behind in some damn saloon

i’m wishing on a white horse
sheltered in a scatter of rocks
my wish steaming with the stallion’s breath
heavenward

it’s my grandfather’s lucky benediction
a white horse
out of nowhere like this one
gracing a bedeviled vista . . .

wish i hadn’t snapped at her
when she’d questioned the roads i’d chosen

wish we could love each other
better than we do

she’s asleep now
a moment ago complaining
her head throbbed

half-accusing me
of bumping the worst ruts on purpose

what about love

talking about
what’s happiness
what’s worth living for
and each of us
at the campfire

takes his turn one says
climbing to the summit
one says ski racing one says
the airplane he’s saving to buy. . .

the last after a pause says
his dog and we think it’s a joke
hey he says hey
that dog needs me
like i need to be needed
he looks around
all of us laughing
seriously he says
dead serious

so we go back to sipping beers
a gang of single guys
weekend in the woods
each of us
puzzling
about being needed
about love
none of us mentions love

and the night falls
silent
some of us
looking to the stars

some of us
staring at the flames