2 Poems–Aaron Poller

West of Syracuse

for   j. a.

On a lake, upstate New York,
we fished from that small boat,
rowing deeper into the current

from the pebbled beach of lime
stone. Lines held lightly,
we drifted off. No cloud

in sight or anywhere could matter.
Worms moist inside the dark tin
of  loose earth we had brought along.

On shore, your dad, an ex-navy
man, calculates movement of the sun.
Calling us back, signaling how

any journey could turn,
the future, what grace a boy
might remember, might embrace.

North Dakota

I still write your poem,
or maybe your poem
is searching for me.

Unfinished business, turn
past knowing how or why,
what it wants to be.

Null option, paradox,
the end and the beginning,
sky’s electric storm

across your vivid prairie,
open sunflower, thunder
cracking seed. Tomorrow,

its ghost, a sowing summer
wind’s full blown desire,
dark sunflower.

AARON POLLER is an advanced nurse psychotherapist who has been writing and publishing his poetry since the nineteen sixties. He lives quietly in a very small house in Winston-Salem, N.C. with his wife, four dogs and three cats.

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