Life is so uncertain,
Even when it’s fun.
At any time the curtain
Comes down, the rope undone.
Dreams fell below the sky.
The rain drenched my sleeves
My heart beat asking why Continue reading
Poetry
Poem, Cold Comfort
Stepping on river rocks and ice,
Shadows of trout race by.
Snowbanks rise steeply.
Memories unfreeze my youth,
As warm thoughts of then,
Come back to me.
Eyes closed and vivid sounds trickle,
Boots slipped between snow mounded stones,
Where I searched for calm between the banks.
Freezing air awakened a need to go home,
Though I wish I could stay here listening.
February kept a promise,
Between the lighted window of home,
And time alone on the stream.
© Rick Wyman
Poem, TV Violence
Soft eyes of youth
Gaze upon opening wounds of flesh.
Abstract violence from behind glass.
When it’s gone
No smells and no bodies to remove
But the mind holds the image forever
With no empathy to slow an adult hand.
(c) Rick Wyman
Poem, The More I Walk
Casual trail in the snow,
Cross country skier had been there though.
Deep mountainside woods,
A place I’d been before.
Travelers on skis or foot,
Seeking distance to feel
Solitude.
No door to close,
No window shade.
The more I walk,
The more my worries fade.
The snow is colder here,
Left untouched by the sun,
Not a wrinkle for the wind to smooth.
Deep breaths massage my chest
While passing silent sentences,
My thoughts layer upon my memory.
I will recall them to be laid upon paper,
That my eyes may give an opening for retrieval,
My pen renewed my calm.
Rick Wyman, 3/20/17 6:41 p.m. Spring Equinox
In The Dust
If love were as moist soil
With flourishing plant life,
Growing tall and beautiful,
And if her lips were the dew
I awoke to each morning,
I’d be, In The Dust.
If her hair were a shower
Which covered my face,
Country Train
The wooded hills and valleys stitched with ties and steel
Brought me special moments still deep within I feel.
The calling of the whistle that promised something grand
I’d run for half a mile to get a view and take a stand.
Sometimes in country silence when darkness was so deep,
Honesty of Time
The forest changes faces,
One leaf at a time,
Clearing the way
For an uncalculated, honest look.
Like shaving in my mirror,
No matter what’s behind my eyes alone, Continue reading
Quilted Earth
The first snowflakes glide
They accumulate on weathered brown leaves
Rigid crevices begin to Continue reading
The Day Came With Its Own Reason
The day came with its own reason,
Its own clouds and sparse rays of sunshine.
I watched it happen from the mountain top.
There were anticipations of where I’d be later,
But for now, it was all Continue reading
Better, So Earth Won’t Fall
The earth is burning and the river’s dry.
The clouds are there, but they won’t cry.
Not a drop of water falling down,
All shades of brown cover the ground.
Sorry says sun for burning mean. Continue reading
mind salvage 