Falconry Poems, or Something That Resembles Them

For a class I am taking, the requirement is to write three poems for group critique. Folks, I am not a poet. Also, I am not usually drawn to poetry when I have the time to sit down and read. Not that there is anything wrong with it. Quite the contrary. I think poetry is great, just not really my thing. Then I started to write some and I think my mind is changed. Well, sort of.

The Name on the Sign

Most who drive William Northern Boulevard in Tullahoma have never asked whose name is on the sign that leads to the airport. Some of the people who work here couldn't tell you who he was either. That is the strange arithmetic of human memory. One short life, reduced to a word on a green sign, kept clean and tidy by people who never knew the man behind it.

The Call of the Sea: An Essay

The oceans and the age of sail is a fascinating time that captured my young imagination on the first pages of Stevenson's Treasure Island, and the first time I read Melville's opening words, "Call me Ishmael."

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