Philip Kobylarz, Littoral, Photograph
“The Children Going By”
Jack jumped out of the hearse and refused to be dead
Spring weather was too good to ignore
In the distance a bird landed on a tree
Jack refused to stay in the hearse,
He had the weather to embrace
Wood smoke like as a child
The rain coming down in torrents
But not threatening
He calmly sat besides the child
He had been on that sandy soil,
Mother hanging clothes and humming
And the children going by to school,
Walking past the cemetery.
In those mounds at the cemetery,
He realized now, resided accumulated memories
Of children and the trees they loved and dogs
And the wisdom slowly eroded by harsh rain
When it came, and harsh words and looks
And dark strikes on fragile souls
But above this was song and love
And Jack refused to stay too long
If things clouded over, and walked
Again a powdered road, searching
Again for a big protective brother,
Where was he, where is he?
In a field in a far country,
He lies far away flower covered
With faded dreams in a faraway place
My brother lies rifle strewn in a ditch
Rusting, pools of rainwater gathering
That war forgotten, Jack sits stark
With reality again in Texas or Kansas
Or somewhere else, wanting
To return to the place where it started
On the sand, with the children
Passing by the cemetery chattering
And the birds off in the trees.
_____________
Zeke Sanchez
Review by Claire Scott
A dark poem with humor! Well done. The first line totally pulled me in. I like the memory of the past with its vivid detail: “Mother hanging clothes and humming,” “flower covered/With faded dreams in a faraway place,” “rifle strewn in a ditch.” Some of the repetition is terrific: “cemetery,” “children,” “harsh.” Each time the word takes on a slightly different meaning. Weaving in the death of his brother works well. As is the nostalgia for “the place where it started.” I am not sure why the title is in quotes. I am also not so sure about “powdered road.” I find it hard to visualize, although the alliteration works well. The return to the innocence of childhood makes a great ending. A wonderful poem!
Review by Jared Pearce
The whole set is really interesting: the tale develops from little bursts from various perspectives, held together with a lilting rhythm and line. Again, the character here consider reality through his own grief and disenchantment, through the loss of his wishes and dreams, but lands firmly, if sorrowfully, in reality. I like to think he’s going to be ok, but the poem doesn’t indicate that so much.