One & done


By Dale Cowart


“A direct gaze at the sky
Could hurt your eyes.
The sun could blind you!” said mother.
Like any good kid, I did as she said,
So, I tried it out on my brother.
Now he wears glasses … Oh my!


By Dale Cowart

Aged trees stand guard outside my home.
Those highest reaching upward to the sky.
Less stout ones likewise make their presence known.
Each sway through wind; in ice and snow comply.
In winter’s cold they naked stand and wait
til spring arrives and ends their rugged test.
The trees survive because they abdicate.
More like those trees I’d be and not protest.
When chaos clamors, when riot rules my life,
I’d struggle less, endure with calm, and trust,
then ride the raging storm through darkest night.
I’d fare distress by going with the thrust.
No shouldering, I, against forces unseen.
I’d be standing strong ‘cause I’d learned to lean.


By Dale Cowart


She was six years old and saw the gum,

but had no coin for it.

She felt the orb sewn on her shirt

and thought it just might fit.

Smooth and flat it laid.

It held her shirt on straight.

I could rip it off, she thought.

I could put it in the slot.

The orb went in. Gum balls fell.

Her mouth was full. It was swell.

What was the orb? Can you tell?