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9/11
I tap out my pipe, aware of the grand majesty
of a morning taking shape—all the breezes of the
yester-day settle like complaint grown silent.
Crumbs of char and half burnt tobacco appear
upon everything—some landed on this page—
make an unintelligible calligraphy so the leaves
of the open book remind me of:
a blanker whiteness of benighted snow,
with no expression, nothing to express.
Written pages have grown in this natty little volume
of musings, piling up defiled with my own script
to whatever effect. Some have the quality of poems,
some ramble prose-like; all in attempt to encompass
the morning however it comes in a season rampant
in the face of its “draws” from an account of moisture
and light. This year and the last, savings have been
ample, funds available and will not be insufficient
for many months to come.
Copyright 2024 Sean Sexton
Sean Sexton, was born in Indian River County, FL, and grew up on his family’s Treasure Hammock Ranch where he manages a 700-acre cattle operation. He paints, writes, and keeps daily sketch and writing journals. His most recent poetry volume is Portals, Press 53, 2023. He performs regularly at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, NV.

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An honor to meet you today, Seth. I loved the way you as a poet slightly and subtly amended Whelmed in its latest reincarnation.
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Husbandry applies to one’s herds and to one’s writings, as your work demonstrates. They are to be shepherded.
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“the grand majesty of the day taking shape” is a phrase that I shall remember each and every day when I look outside and see nature all around. Thank you for this memorable poem, Sean.
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Yes, Sean has a gift for tilting the language toward beckoning.
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I share your whelm on our abundance of moisture Sean and remarked to Kit just Sunday how I looked forward someday to weather when all I had to worry about was a yard or picking up yard debris instead of cows, calves and the over whelming Constance of concern as I look to the sky and wonder how it will affect those that I care for and am responsible for. Your pipe tobacco instantly took me back to my childhood this morning and I thank you again for your golden words that start the day gently. Coffee in hand!
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“This year and the last, savings have beenample, funds available and will not be insufficientfor many months to come.”
A poem of presence and quiet, and lovely gratitude ✨
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How I love
“the grand majesty
of a morning taking shape” –
and so many more images in Sean Sexton’s work. His is a voice with so many fine, fine variations and “coloratura” — and always that humble, modest & tactile elation of being alive and noticing, noticing. Such awareness, too, with his perfect use of “whelm” — what joy to look up the word and want to use it immediately. Which I did, making a note of it in my journal, but instead of using quotes around the word, I drew stars!
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I am over-whelmed by all these lovely responses. You are always so sweet—all of you, to take time, affirming the poets and this site when you are moved to do so, letting it be known this is a significant, sometimes life-changing blessing of our human consciousness. I always try to do the same and wish to let Michael know how grateful I am to be present in all this everyway I am privileged to be!
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Thanks, Sean. Your work is a good fit for VP.
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jfrobb eloquently wrote what I feel about your writing. I would add that in my brief summer as a cowboy, my boss, the real cowboy, was constantly worried about commodity prices, the weather, the health of his dairy cattle, his machinery, etc. plus the family issues we all face. He was overwhelmed by farming-related anxiety and chores. Writing seems to help you transcend that state of being. This particular entry gives us readers some wonder and understanding of the condition of “whelm” too. Carry on.
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I appreciate your comments on other VP pieces, words that sometimes carry additional layers to what I’ve just read. And now, reading your own piece as a fellow journal ‘keeper’ – ‘ musings piling up defiled by my own script to whatever effect’ – I’m reminded of your wonderful way of sometimes managing to shape elusive things into words. Thank you for both!
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Thanks for this observation, Jackie. You’ve put words to my response to Sean’s poem as well.
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Thanks, Sean, for more proof that you’re not too absent-spirited to count.
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