Author: Tamiko Lowery

Moorland

on the incline

taking the club back

thrusting it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

and all at once

i left the ground

on one plane

the engine inside

full of sparks

was roaring

down the runway

gathering speed

molecular in its distance

gone are the hard things

heavy in their grip

leapt my heart

into the blue

ocean of the sky

humming like the wind

felt the sun rise

within

the sand so hot

to skin

finds relief

at the bottom

of the sea

where it wept

against obsidian

for a thousand centuries

and became the mist

over the moor

TL

Other Side of Somewhere

a moment

drops

curls from the cloud

watched it fall

seep

the hard earth

drunk it down

in thirst

past frozen nights

the fury of the wind

fists of rumbled rain

punching in the dark

flash after flash

pressed to the pane

the smallest drop

saturates the soul

leaving body to bone

no matter how old

or how the sun sets

and rises

in the room

light and bright

and beautiful

she stood in them all

and found something to do

something brand new

took a brush

a pail of paint

and kneeled at the corner

behind the metal door

a shade of winter white

for the child

who went missing there

that night

when the moon was out

and about

shining light and bright

and beautiful

out there on the other side

of somewhere

TL

Kenny Chesney

came to town

and played a song

and stripped it bare

a simple verse

that turned a stadium

into a single seat

“Drinkin’ was forbidden in my Christian country home

I learned to play the flattop on them good ol’ Gospel songs

Then I heard about the barrooms just across the Georgia line

Where a boy could make a livin’ playin’ guitar late at night

Had to learn about the ladies; too young to understand

Why the young girls fall in love with the boys in the band

When the boys turn to music, the girls just turn away

To some other guitar picker in some other late night place

Yeah, I held on to my music; I let the ladies walk away

Took my songs and dreams to Nashville and then on to L. A.

Up to New York City, all across the USA

I lost so much of me, but there’s enough of me to say …

that my Home’s in Alabama, no matter where I lay my head

My home’s in Alabama, Southern born and Southern bred

What keeps me goin’? I don’t really know.

Can’t be the money, the Lord knows I’m always broke

Could it be the satisfaction of bein’ understood

When the people really love ya and let you know when it’s good

Well I’ll speak my Southern English just as natural as I please

I’m in the heart of Dixie, Dixie’s in the heart of me

And someday when I make it, when love finds a way

Somewhere high on Lookout Mountain, I’ll just smile with pride and say …

that my Home’s in Alabama, no matter where I lay my head

My home’s in Alabama, Southern born and Southern bred”

(song written by Randy Owen of Alabama)

TL

“Great Expectations”

movies split

in half

fell asleep

on the border

but she stayed up

past the credits

next day

before coffee

she’s asking

don’t you have the book somewhere

the book …

The Book ….

THE BOOK …

did I hear her right

wipe the sand outta my eyes

head to the stack by my bed

pull out the hardcover

run my hand over the etching

close my eyes

thank you … Charles Dickens

and then she’s turning pages

folding back chapters

still sitting in the car

reading …

an hour goes by

a revised edition is checked out

and comes home in the backpack

she reads the whole thing

buys a new copy at the store

talks about the main character

and writes about him

as if she weren’t nine …

“Pip is a generous, kind, loyal, forgiving person.

In tough times, he stayed calm and kind.

Even around horrible people he stayed good.

He loves Estella,

but Estella is taught to be bitter and cold from Miss. Havisham.

Miss Havisham was broken by a man she loved,

but he only loved her for her money.

He sent a letter canceling the wedding at 20 minutes to nine.

Estella always loved Pip but never showed it.

In the end, Pip wants to marry Biddy, but he finds out Joe just married her.

He goes to Miss Havisham’s house after she passed and found Estella in the garden.

Then they finally fall in love and admit it.”

TL

Hard Shells

I hunt

for Easter eggs

in the woods

the briars

the straws

the webs

round white shells

dimpled in the sun

pick up each one

within reach

the brimming basket

now light

I carry it

across the lawn

and dump the eggs out

and one by one

I chip ‘em

back into the woods

the briars

the straws

the webs

TL

Dusk

it matters not

the day

if I remember it

or not

it matters not

the day

if I found it

or not

it matters not

the day

if I kept it

or not

it matters not

the day

the break of it

the dusk

folded flat and put away

stuffed or starved

held or withheld

standing in the rain

or cold in the grave

I sat in the sand

and waited

way too long

the sky a tearless blue

in summer

changes its color

in the winter

a different shade

in the fall

and returns itself

in the spring

a buried bulb

left in the ground

grows

each year

dimmer

through the lens

of an eye

but more brilliant

than the day

I remembered it

I found it

I kept it

when it mattered

not

the break of it

the dusk

TL

Long Lens

in a parking lot

on a side of town

plated up

the sun low and lazy

the liquid movement of the morning

rises

and drips a drop

into my cup

and I stir it round

gentle against the lip

the clouds pinned to a line

where the birds sit and sing

beaded there like rain

a diamond necklace

unfastened

nothing matches

and I feel like I haven’t slept in years

I just doze in and out

with my eyes closed

snapshots in a dark room

the bending of light

a prism

brushed against the wall

in different shades

tones

and hues

TL

The Way of the Wind

miles away

a string of lights

stretch the blacktop

blinking

on and off

like lights on a lake

I watch the flow

wondering where do all the people go

where have they been

what have they went through

what do they want

what do they need

did they find it

after all …

the wandering

or did they let it pass them by

thinking they’d get another chance

but chances are

a bit like a sail

boat

and I’ve seen ‘em go

by

sat in the burning sand

squinting

but the high wind

never does bring ‘em back

around

this way again

TL

Barefoot

you can bury

the day

burn the map

empty all your pockets

inside out

put on a different coat

hat

and cut your hair

to there

then grow it back

put on pounds

and take ‘em off

run around

hit the brake

sit way down

cut the light

the switch

open a door

shut it

slam it

behind

shop around

try on every shoe

sole

and wear ‘em out

across the street

up the bank

down the trail

through the gate

around the corner

the circle

past the trees

the brush

the crows are cawing

a shadow forms

fills

and falls

like hot tears

against a cold cheek

heavy-laden

into a box

a black box

nobody opens

the perfect petals

each stem

strand

turned to ash

the wind scatters

like a hand-full of stars

on a frozen night

beyond touch

or reason

or wishes

and it’s too bad

they don’t make a pair

for that

for that long

long walk home

TL

Fetch
he waited
for the ball
to be thrown
into the water
soon as it hit
the surface
he’d jump in
after it
leaving behind a wake
nothing mattered but the ball
he would swim to his death
to hear, “good boy!”
the ball wedged in his mouth
he’d die happy
TL

Distance

out on

the range

you hit some good ones

and some bad ones

but it don’t matter

nobody cares

nobody’s keeping score

you do your best to hit ‘em

long and straight

even if they tend to go

left to right

and, sometimes, nothing lifts

but dirt

damn it!

you get back in position

and try again

and it goes long and straight

and all the bad shots

fade away

it’s what I love

about golf

you get to begin

each time

you go out there

and play

TL

Closure

in two

weeks’ time

she’ll be

on a flight

14 hours

with her

kids

going and visiting

her dad

her mother’s grave

other family members

sights and sounds and scents

from her childhood

and I’m listening to her

tell me all about it

and I don’t know why

but I start to cry

and can’t stop

I try and try

but can’t

and I don’t want

her to see me like this

anyone to see me like this

to see how deep it goes

how it’s always there

and she tells me

she’d go

with me

if I ever

but it’d be

like Everest

just to board

let alone touch

down

not like there’d be

this family reunion

or anything

or that I’d understand

a word anybody was saying

or anything

and 14 hours

I mean really

yeah, no

can’t see it happening

nonetheless

a part of me

is left

there in that orphanage

in Korea

a baby I need to hold

and never let go

TL

Weeping Willow

there’s a willow

that sits

on the edge

of a ripple

her hair

left long

and golden

tousled and untamed

a fountain there

sprays a mild mist

a balm against

a summer sun

scent in a whisper

the mist

mimics memory

of an untold

story

as legends go

her leaves fell

in a whirling winter

leaving the bark bare

a lamp without shade

the trunk burned

by day

in embers of rain

the bark

took her tears

and etched them

against the grain

and when night

the moon

a slice

the coolness

of the stars

like snowflakes

that disappear

in sleep

there he dreamed

a good dream

as he stood

by the ripple

the promise

of spring

her hair

all around

the dream

eternal

TL

Unprepared

months later

got a letter

from the book

store

telling me

sorry

but

couldn’t

find

a copy

of Ephron’s

work

not Sleepless in Seattle

or You’ve Got Mail

or Julie and Julia

but the book she wrote

about her neck

and how she felt bad about it

standing at the helpdesk

on a day I turned 40-something

the young girl

typed in the long title …

whilst trying not to look at my neck

and I was young

like her

20 years ago

when the furthest thing

was this

how nothing prepares you

for this

not the weeds of gray hair

not the relentless wrinkles

not the climbing cellulite

not the tight inner tube

not the field of freckles

not the aches

not the pain

no, nothing

quite

on the day

you look in the mirror

and see

some-

thing

you never thought about

worried about

and I wanna tell 20

SPF

not just your mask

but everything below it

especially your neeeeeeeeeeeeck

‘cause someday

you’ll be a desperate fool

reaching for something

anything

maybe even a book

to help you through

TL

Alas

once you

put on

an inner tube

(xs, small, medium, large, XL, XXL, XXXL)

it’s hard as

to get it off

suctioned there

at the waistline

you carry it

round

as if you were in

your first three trimesters

what a sobering thought

(especially if you’re a guy)

so, there you are

hopping around

from one foot to the other

wriggling and jiggling

pushing and pulling

trying your best

to pry it off

wondering when

or if

it’ll ever deflate

so you can finally

swim free

and clear

of the plastic

lap for lap

flip over on your back

and float

then dripping wet

emerge from the waves

like a sculpture

like a Greek goddess

that has shed her toga

and doesn’t mind being painted

in the nude

TL

Receipt

the cat

was waiting

for a pat

for he’d

brought me

a bird

a little brown bird

and he knows

how I love birds

and I’ve tried to tell him

that I prefer them

in a tree

or on the breeze

but he just stares at me

puzzled

for he’d

brought me

a bird

a little brown bird

and he knows

how I love birds

TL

Mere

people wait

for miles

to stand

at the foot

of a mountain

and take a puff

and look around

a tree

find its leaves

in light

they sit at streams

and stack pebbles

and pretend

as the faucet runs

without a handle

down the fall

making bubbles

that spill over

the side

and when

they get back

to concrete things

like clothes

and shoes

and handles

that turn

hot to cold

they look around

TL

A Turtle

it may not

summit the cliff

like a lion

or break the horizon

like an eagle

or quake the ground

like an elephant

or rush the wind

like a giraffe

or swing from trees

 like a chimpanzee

or eyeball limbs

like a gator

or circle a ship

like a shark

or slip the night

like a panther

or rip the roots

like a bear

or run the land

like a horse

no, it might not

be a beast

not even close

but it’s determined

to get where it’s going

if it’s headed out to sea

it takes no shortcut

if it’s headed across the street

it takes its chances

if it sets its course

it stays it

sand or sea

grass or leaves

storm or no

might take it time

a little like a lifetime

to get where it’s going

but there’s no quit

under the armor

might not make it across

never even stand a chance

but a turtle

a hard-shell turtle

will die trying

TL

Beheld

I watched

a flower fold

its color drained

and the dress it wore

a ruffled puddle on the floor

unzipped at the seam

the stem above ground

at loss

without blush

TL

Shifting

on a frozen breath

held like a lake

when the sun

touches ice

a matchstick scrape

bled against the grain

a flickered flame

the stick its last smoke

rises to the cloud

nearest the sun

TL