Dale is a visual artist and poet living in Indiana. His work has been published in many online and print journals; the most recent appearing in: Pilgrimage, The Tower Journal, The Museum of Americana, The Lake, Short Fast and Deadly and Midwestern Gothic. A more complete listing of Dale’s work can be seen on his website http://dalepattersonart.com/
on jade melmac
my clod-hopper boots on a path
near the end of the day
across the tilled fields distant hills sink
pales of grass
matted beneath fawn
slender in girth
breath
imperceptible
spring
freeze and thaw
earth breaking down
near the end of the day
across the tilled fields distant hills sink
pales of grass
matted beneath fawn
slender in girth
breath
imperceptible
spring
freeze and thaw
earth breaking down
into a table
set
by the stove
flatware and plates
potatoes
onions
carrots
fork-tender meat
falling apart into sunset
set
by the stove
flatware and plates
potatoes
onions
carrots
fork-tender meat
falling apart into sunset
old harry’s greed
plagued with
grasshopper legs
twisted cane
for support
he intrudes on
his neighbor’s
small garden.
he shovels-in
handfuls
of cherry tomatoes
one then another
in widening grin
slobber and seeds
filling the gaps
between teeth
with gratuitous red.
knapping his beak
like a piece
of grey chert
a blackmailing
sparrow
grasshopper legs
twisted cane
for support
he intrudes on
his neighbor’s
small garden.
he shovels-in
handfuls
of cherry tomatoes
one then another
in widening grin
slobber and seeds
filling the gaps
between teeth
with gratuitous red.
knapping his beak
like a piece
of grey chert
a blackmailing
sparrow
a witness
who offers
stone silence
stone silence
to glean
in the devil’s
own spittle.
in the devil’s
own spittle.
rockhound
sparse grass,
exposures of bedrock
to an incline of shrubs
that brittle-twigs
welts on her legs.
blonde hair
rumpled in swelter
she summits the ridge,
breathes
lake superior.
each water-washed
roundness of stone
shines
like a red-bellied snake.
picking one up
she gives it a name.
another she kisses,
examine its depth,
an iron-eyed agate
she will keep
for the rest
of her life.
~Dale Patterson