Poetry by Kelly Beller
Oaken Ages
Childhood's passionate reject,
A recycled upright, veneered in pickled oak
purchased to honor the commandment
Thou shalt practice!
Insufficient recompense for not playing with my
friends.
Youth, I find 'Fumed Oak', a show.
enter Noel Coward and company,
enter laughter
As a young adult,
Ewell Gibbon guides me
to collect, roast, and grind acorns
making muffins, sharp and sawdusty
but natural, gathered, near at hand.
Our first apartment
furnished courtesy of curb exchange and house sales.
The dark flatness of Mission Oak
rugged, utilitarian, Stickleyan,
fitting setting for children, pets, family
Our last house,
with its thin strips of red oak flooring.
bruited tough, hardened revelations
of high school years and family turmoil,
the scuff of ages
Uncoupled,
I remember the series 'Oaks of the Genesee'
Richard Beale's fine tribute
to our grand ancient sentinels
Confident enough to stand alone.
Kelly Beller
01/2003