Four Poems

By L. Ward Abel

Matte

A white matte of clouds

as if behind wax paper screens

moves slow across the sky

like a flock in the atrium

of immense holy space—

determined

though fearful,  

proceeding

though paralyzed

from events.

Foreground and distance

combine into

something

imminent, terrible,

completed.

Deadly Up

A direct hit this time.

Like a Halley’s Comet

coming in 1960 and going out now.

Twain would be proud of the old girl

made of cypress

impervious to nails.

But the river is deadly up

to a line taller than God.

The shallows breathe heavy

stripping palm trees.

The windows are all blown-out

blinds they unfurl to a sky submerged

where gulf water joins

up into the air

like being freed at last

like forever

like gone.

Shake and Flash

The plants hear thunder

feel the woods shake and flash

in those rains preceding

a warmer season

a frenzy

like the first frenzy

soaked down to essence

and the womb.

A Dove’s on the Roof

Words between the words,

a dove’s on the roof.

Clouds show ragged

and dark south of here and

no music plays from the passing

cars.

Someone whispers about secret

police, the choosing of sides, of trees

stripped bare from artillery and art

that missed the mark.

We loiter

against the posting of signs while

behind is always in the present

tense,

mindful under pouring

rain, splayed as a public

watches.

Ocean

Look how the joining

of land with sea

or its attempt

displays in loops.

Slight edges

gray to off-gray

and the point where

who can tell

whether the sea reaches up

to become

or the sky reaches down

for the other,

both bound by approaching

the immensity of planets

and blessed by

such thinness

of air.

About The Author:

L. Ward Abel’s work has appeared in hundreds of journals (Rattle, Versal, The Reader, Worcester Review, Riverbed Review, others), including a recent nomination for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and he is the author of three full collections and ten chapbooks of poetry, including his latest collection, The Width of Here (Silver Bow, 2021).

He is a reformed lawyer, he writes and plays music, and he teaches literature. Abel resides in rural Georgia.