When I Was Born

“When I was born,”
Grandpa’d say,
recalling his youth.
Not, “In my day,”
like other old-timers.
used the expression
whenever discussing
the Great Depression.

Today I’m the same age
he was then,
though not nearly as old.
I see when
he looked back, he saw
each day as new morn,
another time
he’d be reborn.

I wanted to use the last Story-a-Day Week One prompt, “When I was born…”, for a story, but ran out of time. I saw my old friend Joy Ann Jones was running a new series looking for 55-word poems, so I’m trying to do justice to both. And since today is my birthday and I’ve reached “that age,” I decided to write knowledge-of-age poem. So there you go…

To Move the World


Between two lines of trees,
one east, t’other west,
Sun walks nurse’s shadows
from sunup to sunset.

She feeds vestiges of snow
from a winter too long,
too high, too dark,
to hopeful, budding maples.

In a new geometry, they
stretch their lever limbs
upon this fulcrum of our year,
moving sleeping poets to song.

A 55-word poem for the second of my April poem-a-day challenge. I hope Archimedes would approve.