Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Roberta Hatcher: By Yellow Lamplight

 We stand in the onion fields looking up at the night.
         Robert Bly
 
 
He has dragged his muddy feet into the kitchen again,
as I cry at the counter peeling and chopping.
I, too, once looked up at the night. Now,
 
the stars, I prefer to drink them. Dancing
in my glass, lighting the dark corners
of my grubby badger heart, they will subside, I know.
 
But what of the happiness they wrought?
Laughter around a table, flavor of onions 
and mustard and salt, music to drown the sound
 
of his weeping. All the gods are fallen.
I am not heartbroken. Cronus eats his children,
we know what Abraham was prepared to do for his Lord.
 
I dig in the dirt for potatoes and beets
that taste of earth. No one can convince me
the dirt is not beautiful. Had we disdained
 
the serpent and the badger less we would not now be looking 
to Mars to save us. Pour some wine, turn up the music.
Can we please not have to listen to that infernal weeping?

--

Copyright 2019 Roberta Hatcher

Roberta Hatcher is the author of French Lessons.
Roberta Hatcher [photo: Ruth E. Hendricks]

5 comments on “Roberta Hatcher: By Yellow Lamplight

  1. Diana Elser
    July 29, 2019

    Ahhhh. Beautiful work. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ruth
    July 25, 2019

    Congratulations on your poem being published on Vox Populi. I can taste it, smell it and hear it!
    And thanks for the photo credit on FB.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Kathryn Levy
    July 24, 2019

    Wonderful poem!

    Liked by 1 person

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This entry was posted on July 24, 2019 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , .

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