Tucker Jones, Duck River EMC
Winding roads, mountains and hollows
Afternoon sun with the shadows
Meadows alive with shades of green
Mist from the waters float in between
Tulip Poplar blooms turn to the sky
Passion flowers greet arriving butterflies
Mockingbirds sing as the woodpecker
Box turtles hide near a limestone rock
While the mayfly nymph awaits in wings
Bass swim in a clear mountain stream
Raccoons feed at the water’s edge
Salamanders find shelter under the ledge
Sun sets making the heavens dark and
The moon rises as shining stars appear
Quiet settles on a flutter of wings
Awaiting the morning and the beauty it
Cheyenne Lackey, Cumberland EMC
Spots the girl
Lost in thought
A kaleidoscope of emotions
There’s nothing worse
Than growing older
Two steps in
Two steps out
Planted a whole tree of doubt
Instead of a seed
Left to fester
Like a wound
On the precipice of greatness
Of everything she has yet to achieve
Or perhaps never will
Seeking solace in the brown overgrowth
Watching her sink
To the cold gravel
The sun travels across her cheeks
Encasing her in the
Of a city turned to
Cara Harrison, Middle Tennessee EMC
I don’t blame you.
You couldn’t have known what daily turmoil
(un)intentionally caused myself.
The fragment sentences and broken
descriptions I tried to hand you were
like untranscribed hieroglyphics;
Hard to read and impossible to understand.
I painted you into a work of art, a pure
Splashes of yellow for your spark of joy
Blue swirls of calm, cool temperament.
Pink, for care that used to be prominent.
You were beautiful,
But you weren’t real.
My mind molded you into a vision-perfect reality.
When my sight became 20/20, I saw
what a catastrophe I had made.
Terry Weaver, Duck River EMC
They hibernate in attic corners
Like seeds in winter fields…
Yellowed pages fanning
Rekindled memories as they turn.
The band, cheerleaders, the crowd
Echoing down hallways of memory,
Past empty classrooms full of
Remembrances of things
Long past importance.
Propelling us towards unseen futures
Perfectly laid plans, scribbled vows,
Folded into fading memories,
Confined to dusty cardboard boxes
So young, so hopeful …
That hope still pushes us
Down roads yet unseen.
Through lives now fulfilled
In children, grandchildren,
Those our lives have touched,
Past the memories of those
Gone on before.
Age 65 and older
Four and Twenty Blackbirds
Millie Ungren, Pickwick EC
A continuous stream
Like water after a sudden rainstorm
Or bats in the evening
Exiting their cave in Lookout Mountai
Toward a purposed destination
You are a starling
I watch with wind in my face
You’re blasting through space
Never missing a beat
Whirling like smoke from a winter fire
Winding toward the setting sun.
You fly over me
Like flapping bedsheets
Unfurling on backyard clotheslines
I hear the sound of beating wings
Through sycamore arms
Seeking and finding your nightly roost
In the crown of many trees
Resting until tomorrow
“Never lose a holy curiosity” Einstein