Hawthorn Highway

Along the heartworn highway, a row of hawthorn
& drooping lines of electric wire
drifting away from the city, that only birds adorn

Hitchhikers flit back home, heavy, heartworn
from trials of the road they soon tire
mama welcomes in her wayward firstborn.

The dust of years leaves us all shopworn
as the passion of youth spends its aching fire
making a path through thickets of aging corn.

To cherish the rose we must water the thorn
& risk wakening the old mans arthritic ire
to become gardeners of life, in rocky soil, stubborn.

Along the heartworn highway a row of hawthorns,
whose blossoms reach up to the sun, their sire.
From the heights of midnight to the first rays of morn
traveling along this lonely road of the twice born.

.:. .:. .:.
I've been inspired to start posting some poems again, seeing how much poetic action their is over on substack, with the likes of Josh Datko at Bitpunk.fm, who has turned me on to a community of poets gathering together over at that venue.  Reading Frederick Moe's poems in the AAPA bundles is also a treat, reminding me I need to bundle some up... Noah Rymer has also given me a jolt of inspiration to start submitting poetry again. 

When I first started writing it was poetry and stories, and that's always remained, so I hope to continue putting more of my poems up here. You can grab a copy of my poetry book Underground Rivers if you like. Its a free download (and also available in print for a modest price on that shibboleth named after a rainforest). My work has also  been collected in the out-of-print chapbook Shards of Glass. 

.:. .:. .:. ​Do you like what you have read here?  The best way to support my continued work as a writer is to buy a copy of my book, The Radio Phonics Laboratory: Telecommunications, Speech Synthesis, and the Birth of Electronic Music published by Velocity Press in the UK and available from Bookshop.org and that big place named after a rainforest, and fine bookstores everywhere.