Tom Pescatore
once there was a turtle pond empty to the eye
once there was a turtle pond
empty to the eye
at the center of its green muck
a glowing pupil
a spotlight buried in its depth
from it illuminated at the surface
was the coming into focus
swimming body of a small turtle
a turtle! a turtle alone in this big pond!
swimming on spiked little toes!
a turtle! I said a Turtle I painted its life
and springing from that turtle
and its birth in my mind
another turtle spawned
now the pond slowly took focus
there were countless turtles swimming
I tried to retain the original turtle in my sight
the first turtle of creation
lost
having become the swarm
along the banks literal piles of turtle
roosting shell to shell in the night
on their turtle wall
in their turtle pond
I had glimpsed the long life of their home
from one turtle came the many
multitude billions
from this turtle pond I had glimpsed the history
of all the turtles of the earth
EASTERN MISSIVE
Crouch above Travertine Spring
naked in the cool sierra breeze
spread my past along the plains
where I have been
what way is done? all my life
green hills sink into foreground
night hills return spun by hand
gods of road—
carry me home some thousand miles more
tho I don’t want to go—I’m not ready
—still you wink you Kansas stars
written by flashlight
over the map
Oakley Salina Manhattan
Junction City
straight line you stretch
America back to streets
—I know
but forgive me
places memories lives
familiarity
back the brake—the engine cold
ignition every morning
same old
without a key
~Oakley, KS 6/30/17
Tom Pescatore can sometimes be seen wandering along the Walt Whitman Bridge or down the sidewalks of Philadelphia’s old Skid Row. He might have left a poem or two behind to mark his trail. He claims ownership of a poetry blog: amagicalmistake.blogspot.com. His novel Boxcar Bop is forthcoming Fall 2018.