What Right Have I?

photo: jude genereaux

“What Right Have I”

  by Jude Genereaux

What right do I have

to luxuriate in such exquisite beauty?

     people are starving in Africa

           children die in the killing fields

                   the mid-east festers, ticking

What right …

to sit gazing at sun dazzled water

lined in cliffs of white, bumblebees pop & whizz

through candy cane striped flutes

gulls glide, weightless over the

navy-blue-white-frothing bay

             I sit idle in a field

             studying the lace of white pine;

Would I dare to hope this is karma, reincarnation?

I am aware of nothing I did to earn this moment

               even as I recognize the truest sin

                        would be to not rejoice in such grace

When I return home I promise to write

my congressmen, send money to good causes

            but for this moment

my sole Duty,  my responsibility

            is to take Notice of this perfection

                                      and be glad.                               

~ first published in Base Camp

Indian Summer, Denial

photo: jude genereaux

Indian Summer, Denial

by Jude Genereaux

What does it take

to bring Summer to an end?

In the month of shortened days

a moment of new light

casts shadows in wrong places;

I put the lawn chairs away

lower the deck umbrella

notice the first red leaf … turncoat maples!

A flyer advertising "School Supplies"

blows across the drive.

What does it take?

to redirect one’s heart to autumn …

I reach for my woolrich plaid

walk darkening roads,

shift the campfire to the woodstove.

~ first published in “Seeding the Snow”

(Chicago Journal )

TREKKING NORTHWOODS

photo: jude genereaux

TREKKING NORTHWOODS
by Jude Genereaux

I’ve stayed on the straight and narrow
pretty much all my life
she said, explaining why
she would not spend anymore time listening
to his crazy love talk, especially
not at this stage of life with
kids grown, life in order, future secure;
and continued writing her daily lists.

Then you missed
he said
all the logging trails
that twist and turn into the
darkest part of the northwoods, winding,
running to unexpected
surprises, breathtaking
waterfalls, primitive
peaceful glens
otherwise unknown

she looked across the road
into the heart of the hardwood forest
laid down her pencil.



~ first published by The Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts & Letters