Roberta Hatcher: Two Poems
In February that year a man entered the wilderness,
drifted down a river forty days and forty nights.
He emerged to a world utterly transformed.
Roberta Hatcher: Early Days
Into the sudden quiet—
riotous flowers and birds,
wildlife in streets and backyards.
Had they always been there,
hidden behind our busyness
and the noise of our machines?
Roberta Hatcher: My Highway 61 Revisited
Well at times ideas seem so absurd
But if you leave me in peace to play with words
I’ll give you something simple
Just a little rhyme
To amuse and to help to pass the time
Roberta Hatcher: The Knitting Activist
Over under the country unraveling,
the old anxiety returning,
she sits and knits pink hats
for a new generation of women marching.
Roberta Hatcher: By Yellow Lamplight
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.
Roberta Hatcher: Thank You for Crawling
Your fall is unimportant to us. Due to the unusually heavy volume of newly transferred wealth, we are experiencing significant delight. Stay in line, and one of our agents will … Continue reading
