The Children

artwork: carl larsson

The Children

by June Nirschl

A tribute to the children

 of Sandy Hook Elementary

I want to hear their names

the soft and hard sounds

enunciated by the mothers and fathers

who loved them

who planned for them

and now grieve their loss

let Noah    Olivia    Catherine     James

spill from their mouths again and again

let bereft voices groan with affection

for Avielle   Jack   Jessica    Emilie

champion the innocence and hope

each young life embodied

the dreams hovering at the ready

to ride a pony tease the neighbor save a life

let Benjamin    Dylan    Caroline    Josephine

be celebrated in prayer and rejoicing

I want to hear their names

spun like strands of silver across the winter sky

raised in celebration for the love they shared

and lifted    Madeleine    Allison   Daniel    Ana

let the names convey the beauty

these fragile children carried

human eyes of many hues hair of many shades

yet still the carols sound melodies embracing

Jesse    Chase    Charlotte    Grace

these children

our sorrow

~ first published in the Peninsula Pulse

DANCE MAN

artwork: ralph murre

Dance Man
by June Nirschl

danced with every woman, danced every dance –
polka , waltz . schottische . . . excelling at the polka
no one faster or more joyful
yip . . . yip . . . yip
swirling in a mist of blue cigarette smoke
glare of naked bulbs like a dozen pseudo moons
girls glittering this night with ribbons and satin
headbands holding marcelled hair in place
light glancing off
bottles of Corby’s and nickel glasses of beer
hardwood floor cleared and waxed
sawdust scattered to ease
the dancers’ rounds
first notes of music drawing young women
edging young women toward the floor
concertina rallying rhythm
drummer hitting cymbals hard
Depression day faded and Depression night
became a magic place where Prince Charming
moved with confidence, spoke without stammer
with his dancing feet ruled a minor principality;
his eyes assessed each potential princess
before sauntering toward three young ladies
who, self-conscious, tugged at their dresses,
they on tenterhooks waiting for the invitation
to spin across the floor firmly guided
kindly held by this country boy gone city,
this guy with moonlight in his eyes
who chose a rose by any other name.

~ previously published in Slightly Off Q (Marsh River Editions)