ASH AND ROSES

DULCET TONES IN SHADE

HUNGARIAN FALLS, MICHIGAN

By Kenneth Pobo

ASH AND ROSES

Dulcet Tones’ favorite Aunt,

Triton, began each morning

asking “Am I still here?” 

He visits the cemetery often,

talks to the dead—

and not just his Aunt.

Martha, born in 1792—a pine

shades her. 

Dulcet says he won’t be a plot. 

His plot will be finished,

all the implausible scenes,

the many poorly phrased comebacks. 

He’ll become the cigarette

he no longer smokes, an ash man,

dust around red roses. 

DULCET TONES IN SHADE

Sometimes I yen for Neptune,

to curl up in his frozen

blue arms.  Neptune is moony,

the sun barely a cough. 

I ought to stay with Earth,

even as we ruin it more

each day.  For now,

it has flowers.  I swim

in a red daylily’s vast pool. 

And trees.  I sit in shade

and listen to a pebble

recite her first poem.

Sometimes I yen for Neptune,

to curl up in his frozen

blue arms.  Neptune is moony,

the sun barely a cough. 

I ought to stay with Earth,

even as we ruin it more

each day.  For now,

it has flowers.  I swim

in a red daylily’s vast pool. 

And trees.  I sit in shade

and listen to a pebble

recite her first poem.

HUNGARIAN FALLS, MICHIGAN

A mob of mosquitoes

fades into October.

We reach Hungarian Falls,

no one else here,

the water a drift

of white against

yellow leaves. 

We almost slip

on wet rocks.  Danger

calls us.  As does beauty.

We must risk. 

Kenneth Pobo is the author of twenty-one chapbooks and nine full-length collections. Recent books include Bend of Quiet (Blue Light Press), Loplop in a Red City (Circling Rivers), and Uneven Steven (Assure Press). Opening is forthcoming from Rectos Y Versos Editions. Lavender Fire, Lavender Rose is forthcoming from Brick/House Books.