Grandfather's Vespers - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Grandfather’s Vespers

His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
His coffee cup’s half-empty, what’s left’s gone cold
His newspaper’s folded and set aside -
In the evening light he doesn’t see so well

Mist rises from the neighbor’s new-mown field
Shy rabbits nibble along the old fence row
Grandchildren escape from supper into the yard
Chasing lightning bugs while Grandfather smokes

His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
And so helps stabilize the universe

Collateral Damage - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Collateral Damage

His final defensive perimeter
Room 304 in The Plaza Hotel
Convenient to the bus stop, and not far
From the public library one street over

He checks out a Perry Mason each week
“They knew how to write a good yarn in those days”
And bears it off to The Corner Café’
Free refills; the waitresses always pet him

He makes speeches in Perry Mason’s courtroom
The Social Security office, and Korea

Discharge Papers - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Discharge Papers

Now trudging up the creaky courthouse steps
He ran and skipped up forty years ago
One step at a time, now, clinging to the rail
So insolently scorned in his callow youth

The papers deposited long ago
Are needful to the VA office gnomes
Who probably will say no anyway
As they always have. Their slogan should read

“To ignore him who shall have borne the battle” -
He trudges up the creaky courthouse steps

The Eternal Complaint of the Elderly - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.

The Eternal Complaint of the Elderly

Old men don’t seem to recognize the world
Its shifting cultural expectations,
Unstable tectonics in music and art
The vaporous now in the confident young

Confusion and speed, meanings without words
Words without meanings, opaque cues and codes
Mutual unintended inattention
And the sense of being invisible

Old man, the world doesn’t even see you -
And it’s all probably better that way

Two Drowsy Old Dogs - Poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Two Drowsy Old Dogs

The adventures are pretty much over now
And the field gear was turned in long ago
An old dog dozes in front of the fire
Dreaming of rabbits he chased as a pup
An old man dozes over an open book
Dreaming of what was, and what might have been
In letters, words, and lines upon a page
Shaped into mountains and rivers of fire
And sunrise over the rim of the world
Where awaits the greatest Adventure of all

Listen to the Moon - A Poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Listen to the Moon

When you are very old, speak to the moon,
Just as you did when you were very young
And if you listen, listen carefully
The moon will continue telling a story
That she began in the long, long ago
Just at the moment when you thought yourself
Too grown-up then to listen to the night
She smiles, and waits, that queen among the stars
For you to grow as wise as once you were:
When you are very old, listen to the moon

Who is That Absurd Old Man? - a poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Who is That Absurd Old Man?

Who is that old man in the looking-glass
That absurd old man with the puffy face
And thinning hair, more grey than anything
Whence came that wobbly chin, those hairy ears?

The face in the mirror is supposed to be
Narrow and sharp, with lots of tousled hair
Falling over bright and healthy eyes
Eagerly greeting the morning of life

But this is no matter – lift high the blade
(Rotary now) and with it challenge the dawn!

This Moon is not Eternal

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

This Moon is not Eternal

 

This moon is not eternal; it only seems

To be because in the mysterious night

It falls upon the earth in silent waves

Of memories drifting across the floor

In the dawn-drawn hours of dream-sheaving sleep

Before the eyes of an old man even as

It made shadowy mysteries for the boy

Shifting memories to leafy childhood days

And back again, a reflection of the real

This moon is not eternal, but that one is.

Some Other Planet

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Some Other Planet

A youth in his curiosity wants
To fling himself in a swift silver ship
To wander strange worlds in the far away
Where he may marvel at the wild unknown

An old man wakes from his Van Winkle nap
Which he didn’t even know he had taken
To discover at last this strange old fact:
He has always lived in the wild unknown