Truck

BEAR AND ME

 The brown soulful eyes

             of much-loved Bear

             rows the little boat

                                                 over water Moon and stars

 In night-time mysteries

                softly breathed

    down long underground mazes

                of caves and canyons

                                     to the secret meeting place

                                                 of  World’s Four Great Winds.

                                     Event-horizons of Black Holes.

                                     Mighty Light-destroyers.

                                     Paddle safely me back home again.

 Row the campfires over.

FEET

As I lay me down to sleep

I pray for darkness long and deep

for miles and miles of unused feet

from which they never wake.

Gone all sorrows fears griefs

leaving only resting feet.

They have carried a heavy load.

They have walked a long hard road.

They have gone thru great duress

to allow me to progress

thru a life of extreme stress.

They have earned a decent rest.

Life is thinking on your feet

so your mind’s only as true

as whatever your feet can do.

Pray you’re born with feet not flat.

Amen.

Shantih.

All of that.


*


At 61 Ken Hudson has recently returned to writing poetry after a 30-year hiatus and deep forays into other fields. In his younger days, Ken's poems were published in a wide range of journals and anthologies. Now he is concentrating on poetry until, as he puts it, 'the last breath I take'.