May 2021
Maryann Hurtt
mhurttds@excel.net
Bio Note: I alternate my time between hiking in the white pines of the Ice Age Trail and sitting behind an old oak desk found in the classified section. Eventually a poem shows up. Once Upon a Tar Creek: Mining for Voices is coming out later this year. It is about an environmental disaster where the water is orange.

Waiting In the Rain for the #11 Bus

Springfield, Oregon

logging trucks race west down Main Street
their oversized tires spray
early spring chill and muck to the curb
where I shiver and wait
but soon find
a not too far away dry spot
where a lone cedar
calls me to share 
protection
I inhale sweet green smell
caress her harsh-needled branches
till the # 11 splashes to my stop
I climb the steps 
to the crowded humidity
of too many bodies
look back 
as my heart chants
Cedar. Cedar, Oh, Beloved Cedar

After Finding a Four Leaf Clover at Robert Frost’s Cabin

Middlebury, Vermont

You would think accolades
of admiration 
for all those scribbles tucked into
scraps of napkins, pretty-covered journals
back to school notebooks
would be on their way
to print glory
but now more than anything
I think of my mother
whose eyes for rogue clovers
and crawdads
left her giggling in wet grass
and rock-strewn creeks
no need for luck or praise
when smack before her, wide-open
pay-attention eyes
found treasure most folks
never even know
to chase
©2021 Maryann Hurtt
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL