Vox Populi
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Byron Hoot: To Life
I have now lived nearly seven years alone
except for two covid years my youngest
son lived with me in that milk and honey
time of near solitude this home on this hill
provided. A safe haven of fishing and hunting
seasons, trips to town buying what was needed,
no shopping. I’ve had time to consider this
choice of place that seemed provided by signs
and wonders, of time putting circumstances
in place, of me deciding. A cringe of second-guessing
has arisen. I don’t know why but what I know
is I can’t deny the shadow cast by it. Not great
but enough for me to recognize.
I’ve never trusted second-guessing, that knowing
after the fact what could not be known before
some now becomes some then. The restlessness
of age has entered me. That longing for more
knowing there’s only less to take in. That sense
of not wanting to miss what’s given. I don’t want
my death poem to be, I wished for a fuller/ life lived.
These years of near solitude have taught me
a thing or two. Forgive my doubts; I bow to where I am.
~~~~
~~~
Born and raised in Morgantown, West Virginia, Byron Hoot now lives alone in the wilds of Pennsylvania. His books include Setting Moon Morning Twilight: Predawn Meditations.
Copyright 2025 Byron Hoot
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….and to reply to Jim, whose father left Georgie with a pocketful of pecans — I will leave this most beloved home of mine with a pocketful of poems…
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“Hard-won knowledge of the self” indeed, Michael. This poem offers us facets of this, rightl? “I bow to where I am” is something I do — I really do — every day now. With glad & humble gratitude. Often, often.
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Thanks, Laure-Anne!
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Following the words of this poem is like following the steps of a hunter who’s weathered sacrifice. Who’s aim is true.
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Mr. Hoot writes it so well, with a hint of poignancy to his “nostalgia” and current situation.
This is the age old dilemma, isn’t it? I’m turning 76 and have lived alone for the past 7 years. In retrospect, It’s been a lucky life. Some bad decisions with their flashing red lights, led to better long-term joys. Dangerous crossings found lovely harbors. So much depends upon our mixed tendencies to take risks v. play it safe, huh? For me, decision-making made life fascinating but at times anxious, as now while writing this. My own mantra: be careful if you turn your back on love or beauty.
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Very wise, Jim. Be careful if you turn your back on love or beauty.
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My father’s response:
Walking uneven ground toward longing’s half-open door,
my father, when he left his Georgia home,
filled his pockets with pecans.
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Ha! I grew up in Texas surrounded by pecan trees! Good food for a long journey.
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i agree with what’s already been said in the comments, and want to add praise for the delicious language here, the attention to line breaks, the concluding lines.
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So often now I measure time with memories of place, events, and family, but it’s also important to move forward with Grace and bow here and there. Thank you, Byron Hoot.
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Thanks, Marc. This poem speaks to me strongly. Looking back at pivotal decisions and commitments, seeing how they shaped my life today, regretting some decisions, celebrating others…. This is the work of old age…
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I entered teaching at 45 years old at a small performing arts and college prep school. There was some fear on my part that I would be seen as just another old man, given that I was the oldest teacher there by 15 years or so. That didn’t happen. The kids could get advice from almost any other teacher, but when they wanted to talk about life’s experiences, they tended to come to me. I didn’t always have the answers, but more than once they told me, “Thank God you’re here, Mr. Crowley. You know stuff.” Quite the honor, my friends.
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Yep. You know stuff.
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Quite poignant, especially knowing one has fewer years ahead than behind. Time, resources, friends and family become more precious even while succumbing to nostalgia.
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This hard-won knowledge of the self is an important stage in life, but it is not valued in a society that celebrates flashy fads and shallow exuberance.
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