Lucinda Williams (Folk Fest '24 poem #3)

she leans on the mic stand 

this woman who has endured so much 

and has little of her volcanic presence left 

still has that sandstorm voice 

and a loyal band that follows her anywhere 

as she sings you took my joy 

spitting nails in the air 

anger so hot like lava flowing from the stage 

this woman

Norah likes rocks

rock 

she says 

on the diving board seeing a large heavy stone sitting there 

she squats and smiles 

for this is a true rock 

worthy of the name 

and worthy of the smile

for she likes rocks their solid feeling 

in the small tender hand 

sentences will soon come 

but for now it’s just “rock” 

and we get it

free treasure - wedding poem Sarah and Jonathan

she wears her grandmother’s dress 

with fifty-six buttons up the back 

he in a blue suit with a bowtie

hand in hand they walk down the grassy aisle 

in this shady grove 

on this hot day in August 

while a trio of women sing of 

free treasure 

this love so available 

so there for the taking 

so stunning 

so life giving 

to commit to a long walk down 

many paths 

   some green 

      some steep 

         some rocky 

            some winding 

leading to deeper wells providing clear cold water 

as we dance hot night through with Oma looking on 

smiling

Cowboy Junkies at Big Blue (folk fest '24 #2)

ever since the 

Trinity Sessions

you have been a blue moon in my orbit 

and that afternoon show returned the sweetness 

and downbeat cool to my soul 

even though so many moons have passed 

kids and cancer and retirement and grandkids 

and as I sat 

a little bit hobbled 

in a partially shaded spot 

I was young again 

‘cause there is no one quite like you

The War and Treaty (Folk Fest '24 poem #1)

two great big voices 

from the earth 

                      arrow out 

from the stage 

in this grassy field 

turned ampetheater 

turned gathering place 

of folks slowly sinking into earth 

to absorb this music so modern and yet 

reaching back to the days of 

grassy fields and swaying crops

cousins

up on the bunk 

the boy is eight the girl is one 

wearing brown overall shorts

she loves her cousin who makes her 

smile and laugh with the energy of a worker bee 

gathering pollen on the blue flowers outside our sunroom 

he picks her up and runs around the room 

and puts her down 

aden 

she says 

and he does it again 

aden 

and he does it again 

until his legs start to buckle with the weight 

and here they sit on his bunk 

his large eyes looking out 

speaking tomes about what lies behind 

he holds her wrist so she doesn’t fall 

her mouth forming a smile 

so close to her big cousin

Adolf Ens (elegy) 1933-2024

TB 

18 months in Ninette 

and then  everything broke like branches in the woods

from science to faith 

    from facts to love 

        from chemistry to seminary  

thin family man with soft voice 

loved birds and birdsong on a bicycle 

to teach his classes 

thick glasses reading student lives 

in their rapt faces 

sometimes legends 

are left behind 

because of a nudge at Ninette