Vox Populi
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Rick Campbell: Two Poems
Satchel and Orpheus
Satchel Paige and Orpheus
are walking through the Georgia
Lowlands. O says “I like that thing
you said, don’t look back,
something might be gaining on you.
I could have used that.”
“A good fastball ain’t bad either,” Satch says,
“high and tight, set them back
on their heels, knock old Hades
down in the dirt.”
“I was more Peace and Love,” O says.
“Singing, music, you know?”
“Chin music?”
“No, beauty, I guess.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“Not so well.”
~~~
Before Dawn
The first bird chirps at first light,
scrub jay, perhaps. I read that our native
scrub is being destroyed—we blame developers
but not us. Not neighborhoods with streets, houses
with two car garages, children and dogs. My
scrub is safe for the long figurative moment.
A length of time I imagine that I will live
in this trailer surrounded by oak, jack pine
and palmetto. I can’t promise my scrub
a long life as I am probably nearing the end
of mine, certainly more time lived than to come.
My scrub separates me from the narrow shell road,
keeps dog walkers and maybe six cars a day
from seeing my porch. My scrub will surely be bulldozed
after I am gone. The trailer pulled away. But
for now, the first bird sings that it’s time
to walk the beach, where gulls don’t sing
and herons stand silent, waiting
for a pilchard to offer itself to God.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Rick Campbell
Rick Campbell is a poet and essayist living on Alligator Point, Florida. He is the author of six poetry collections, including Gunshot, Peacock, Dog (Madville Publishing, 2019). His poems and essays have appeared in numerous journals, including The Georgia Review, Fourth River, Kestrel, and New Madrid. He teaches in the MFA program at Sierra Nevada College.
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Well, I started to comment this morning and then had a phone call and then…. I love this even though I had to look up chin music. (I should have known. My late husband filled our hall with pix taken with certain era of Padres and rumor has it some of his ashes may rest by a statue of Tony Gwinn in the stadium. ) As for the birds, that’s my area. In Joshua tree the scrub jays would sit on my hand or shoulder while I fed them my almonds from the organic cereal ( I was at a silent Buddhist retreat—they weren’t so silent). I have made a little island of native plants in the San Diego suburbs and watch hummingbirds and lesser goldfinches and orioles among others ( and feed crows peanuts on dog walks). I love finding a new poet. Thank you, Michael! I will look up his work.
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I’ve loved Rick’s work for a long time. When I was running Autumn House, I published a book of his.
M
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Satchel Paige and Orpheus–this conversation has been waiting for me all my life. Thanks, Rick.
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Two fine poems, Rick. ❤️
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It was practically an Aesop’s Fable as he later became my first publisher. I want to tell you I still consider “Dixmont” his finest!
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Yes, I felt honored to publish Rick’s book at Autumn House.
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Good poems from a certain mentor of my poetry life. I once helped him search for his stolen poems one afternoon when we were in Gainesville. He ultimately found them and many more! One of my dearest friends—so many fine books, I hope you look for and read them all!
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Helping my mentor search for his stolen poems! There’s a poem or at least an anecdote in that phrase, Sean.
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My first Rick Campbell poems. They are wonderful reminders of the inspiration lurking in the best narrative poetry. Winkingly fun with Satchel, then deeper nuances of our twisted world with jack pines and scrub jays.
I saw Satchel Paige pitch at an old-timers game in the Houston Astrodome. Also there was the Yankee Clipper Joe Dimaggio. Dimaggio was known to have said Paige was the greatest pitcher he ever faced. I never met Orpheus yet, or the Black Orpheus either.
As to jack pines, when I got to Minnesota in 1967, the citizens of the North part of the state were known as Jack Pine Savages. I’ve long thought jays and jacks have gotten a bad rep
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Lovely notes to the poem, Jim. Thank you.
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Ah, good, fine poems — I love how the word “scrub” — not a pretty one — grows and becomes a little more beautiful, fragile, endangered & important & at each of the 6 repetitions. And how it disappears from the poem once it “will surely be bulldozed / after I am gone.” Keep walking on that beach, Rick, and posting photographs. Keep writing poems.
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Mike. thanks. i need to send you an updated bio. maybe a current picture too, though i like looking younger. rick
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I’ve thought about using my baby pictures as author headshots.
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”Before Dawn” woke me up today to what’s around me. Love the scrub and the scrub jay! Thank you, Rick, and thanks Michael!
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Thank you, Mary!
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Good to see you here, Rick. Thanks for sharing, Michael.
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Thank you for all you do, Kim. Your work has literally changed my life.
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I knew I missed you.
Lola
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Thanks, Michael
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I admire your poems, Rick. Thanks for contributing them…
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You rock, Rick!
George
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