January 2021
Sam Norman
snorman2252@gmail.com
Bio Note: I have been teaching high school for 18 years at Bacon Academy in Colchester, CT. My first collection, Still Here, was published in 2019. Most of my recent poetry focuses on a terrible tragedy. My son, Ben, just 20 years old, lost his life in an accident on New Year’s Eve, 2018. I have appeared in Verse-Virtual, Amethyst, Red Eft, Praxis and others. I live in Coventry, Connecticut with my wife Teri, my children, Becca and Daniel, a bunch of chickens, and our beloved dogs, Cloudy and Ripple.

Spit Shine

In an early afternoon
late in February,
the light hits just right
On the boots
left thirteen months ago,
spit shined and gleaming.
 
The weak winter sun
reveals a thin layer of dust 
that no petty officer would allow.
 
Pineapple, the cat
idly plays with the laces
not knowing (or caring)
to whom they belong.

Still Here - part two

		The Things that never can come back, are several –
						#1515
						-Emily Dickinson

		…some go, others remain after the fallen leaves. 
						-The Fallen Leaves II
						-John L. Stanizzi

The afternoon sun
touches the headstone
and obscures the black lettering
that marks your presence.

I’m here with you,
trying to make sense
of this…
…and failing.

It seems impossible,
the way the gentle golden light
fills the shadows 
until they disappear,
as impossible as you and I
here, alone, quiet, 
so still that I can hear 
leaves falling,
rustling red,
yellow, and green 
in the peaceful breeze.

And even without 
being able to see
the black letters,
or the Jewish star 
inscribed in the alabaster,
as the late afternoon
transitions to twilight
I know, without doubt
that you are here with me, 
still.
©2021 Sam Norman
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