November 20, 2014 / 2 comments

Walking Sticks

Two stout sticks
between us
flicking windfall left and right
Weekends wandering
wondering
walking
working

Branches
brambles
flipped and spinning
Two maple seeds
sharing limb and leaf
blown apart
ride the currents
settle down aside
the path

Clear the way
on Saturday
Enjoy the trail
on Sunday
Hold fast the rays
of evening breaks
Too soon awake
Monday

When winter sweeps
rustles cease
Cold limb creaks
crack the peace
Hands in fleece
clutched in these
two stout sticks
to glide on skis
beneath our trees

About the author

bramseyer

I teach English and Creative Publishing at Hart High School in my hometown of Hart, Michigan. In February 2018 Montana Mouthful featured my first published work, a piece of creative non-fiction entitled “First Kiss”. The Silver Needle Press published “A Cloudless Sky” June 11, 2018 as their fiction winner. The Peregrine Journal published “Soul Sisters” a flash fiction piece in the fall of 2018. Chaleur Magazine published “Down the Drain” February 6, 2019. Sixfold published “God Will Provide” in March 2019. Montana Mouthful featured a second piece from me, “The Roommate” on April 29, 2019.

bramseyerAuthor website

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Poetry

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  1. hjram64 November 20, 2014 — 8:06 pm

    There is a nice rhythm to this poem that accentuates the flow from one season to the next. The words seem to snap as a stick might under foot on the trail.

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  2. (Post author)
    bramseyer November 20, 2014 — 8:41 pm

    First and fourth stanzas try two emulate the sound of two feet through leaves, then snow.

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