One of my poems from the series "Madison Street" -- Slow Burn -- has been published in the latest issue of The Lyric.
Thank you, Jean!
The children miss their favorite swimming hole
up at the creek, now autumn’s settled in.
This afternoon, one of Glen Alden’s trucks
has brought a mix of pea and chestnut coal.
They’ll chute it down into our cellar bin—
four tons, just over eighty-seven bucks.
We all watch as the monster dump-box lifts
and tilts. The blue-black slow-burn payload shifts
then rumbles to the dank, dark space below.
Our radiators, working full-time till
next March, will clank and gurgle, dry the snow
from woolen mittens, intercept the chill
creeping into the house as blizzards blow
pale spoondrift down our street from Beaumont hill.