Poetry
No portion of the poems below may be reproduced without express written permission of the author Lou Dagneau.
WHERE THE WILD LOON CALLS
North,
Where the wild loon calls.
Past towns and cities.
To moose and calf, waxing and cedar.
Clock and calendar will not follow here.
Where an orange moon lifts half an eye o'er purpled hills.
Woodsmoke 'round the cabin peak.
Cheeks sting in the fires' heat.
Biscuits and trout on chipped China.
Outdoor privy, cold water and homely furnishings.
Wake to the noisy breakfast of barnswollows.
Fishing in natures' surround, farm from the life of opposite.
There is my hearts' longing,
North,
Where the wild loon calls.
SPRING
29 days to spring
oh, what a wonderful thing
longer days and more sun
winter cold is over and done.
SOME day, one day, I'll say, this cold, will GO away. THAT day, in May, I pray, flowers, will come to stay.
APRIL (1986)
Spring of earth
Month of firsts.
Things they say
Should come in May.
Osprey in a lonely glide
Mayflowers, tho they hide
Rabbits changed to brown from white
Peepers songs, in dark of night.
These and more
Promises, of what’s in store
Green of woods, blude of sky,
Gifts of summer rushing by.
Winter, long
Has sung her song.
Comes now the time
Of a poet’s rhyme.
Of sun warm,
And bees’ swarm.
Til days break cold
And, as of old,
November firsts,
Bring winters’ earth.
HIP HIP HOORAY
Hip, hip, hooray-today's a red letter day, I heard my oncologist say, no more chemo for you, Loumae. Made me sick as a dog-felt like a knot on a log, burning up, no git up and go, thank God, I won't take it no mo. Tra la la tra la tra la
2013 after being told no more oral chemo