Sweep, Vacuum, Dust
(with presbyopia)
We’re not in a health club–we have no cool shirt.
We don’t go to yoga–nor live in a yurt.
In our house, we clean,
And try to stay lean,
But now with our old eyes, we see much less dirt!
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 24, 2015
Morning reflections composed today by my friend Steve Shoemaker
She Could Give a Kiss
She could give a kiss
and not have less to share.
He could take a kiss
and still have more to give.
She could have a child
and still have time for him.
He could be a child
and run away from her.
– Steve Shoemaker, 03.21.12
Your Dear Eyes
Your dear eyes…
Macular Degeneration,
what a multi-syllabic curse.
Hazel: sometimes blue,
sometimes green, birthing
children’s eyes of blue and gold…
Flashing with indignation,
pensive, wise, creative, wary–
yes, windows to a good soul.
Let us see all that we can see
while we can. Travel, taste, hear,
feel and, yes, smell what is good
around the world. All of us
are fading into dust: some of us
receive a warning–fair or unfair.
– Steve Shoemaker 03.21.12
“And the Word became flesh….” and words.
Little Steve at Sheldon Jackson Church, Colorado
Sometimes it comes in a poet’s words. The flesh it comes in is all shapes and sizes. Here’s a photo of Steve (6’8” and shrinking) standing behind a historic pulpit at Sheldon Jackson Church in Colorado. Sheldon was a bit shorter. Who says ministers don’t have a sense of humor!LEAVE A COMMENT on Steve’s poems. He, I, and others would love to know what you think. Or, in today’s butchered English, “Me and him” look forward to seeing/hearing the words YOU share.
Views from the Edge 