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MY HEART SLOWS WRITING THIS
for Charles Van Vooren
1902-1956
Lived truths nature incapable of comprehending.
Forged self against uncompromising,
isolated environment.
What sang between heart,
long silent field hours?
Same air breathed?
Were rewards of dreams
knowledge you had them?
Initials carved in barn’s hickory floor?
Brittle tree brances, few leaves,
remaining wrinkled berries
fall.
Hard cow dung.
Woodchucks, raccoons, slinking fox,
scarce stars.
How many crickets are heard?
Pioneer Pine Weeping Ash Spirit Oak
James Humphrey, “My Heart Slows Writing This” from Lef. Copyright © 1997 by Poets Alive Press/James Humphrey.
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