Poems

The Icicle

     The Icicle,
roof snow,
 ice’s waiting embryo,
birthing water on winter’s warmth.

     the icicle,
firmly grips,
drapes the eave, forms erratic stabbing,
has concealed the building you remember.

     the icicle,
with full kinetic ice force,
in free fall
can crush to pieces its own clear beauty.

     the icicle,
as gravity art,
when carefully plucked, points over,
is plunged into your ceremonial snow bank.

Palmer R. Haynes
9902 Blue Valley Road
Mount Horeb, WI 53572
608 437 4990 plhaynes@mhtc.net Copyright, 2008


Your Bridge to Privatization

Elected unwilling,
unable to enable
raising the fare levy.
    Citizenry begrudge paying
    for services provided.

Some large advantaged corporation,
on or offshore, is,
    willing to name, its right and price
    for maintaining its image and tolling
    your Golden Gate pathway.

Hence; already,
expose the slippery slope,
    the “Exxon-Mobil” White House,
    “Xanterra’s” (National) Parks and Resorts,
    and “Halliburton’s” Defense Department.

Palmer R. Haynes
October, 2007

Back then


October, 1956
aunt Alice provided room and board
I pumped Shell gasoline, checked
tires, oil and washed windshields,
customers all paid cash.

May, 1968
days began and ended on
Whippoorwill calling its name
waking a pleasant foretell
sleeping?, all right, already.

May 1978
we strolled a Zurich alley with Trudy
our new friend pulled off a lilac branch
we were taken aback
back to our Wisconsin blooms too.

Palmer R. Haynes
© May, 2015