Author Archives: Susan Stires

The Public Clock … The First Time

Susan StiresWhere, I wonder, is the civility of the public clock
that once dominated the town square,
the schoolhouse wall,
the railroad station?

Try to find time displayed,
digital or analog,
in an airport,
on the street,
in an office building.
If existing by some chance,
the timepiece has stopped
running or is, at best,
inaccurate. In schools
where clocks remain,
all vary, none are true.

Even the privacy of watches,
is nearly replaced by the
handy mobile unit,
the “cell,” that
Swiss Army knife
of technology
used to tell the time,
take a sharp photo,
check a schedule,
play a hit game,
make a call,
text a lover,
play a tune,
find a dog,
file a bet,
wake up,
drink,
shop,
eat,
do.

THE FIRST TIME
By Sidney S. Stark

When first thy countenance appeared to me
The stun suppressed my will and crushed my choice.
So troubled by my fears and thoughts of thee
I blindly blocked thy sight- yet not thy voice.
How lightly cast and softly strong it rose
To carry off my dread, all doubt away.
Until the soldier’s path I thought I chose
Stopped dead in place, and urged me on to stay.
Thy loving soul, so huge in depth and scope,
Hath found the way to sooth and shine and fill
With gentle kindness building high my hope;
While on this antique war is raging still.
But who can tell which battle kills its host?
The one inside my soul doth pain the most.

Brambles

Hanging with the dried pods of lupines this year’s tight blackberries show their seeds in the parched days of August, So unlike the ones fifteen years ago that held all the moisture of summer, That day we armed ourselves with pails and crossed fields heavy with dew to reach the bramble patch behind the ell… Continue Reading