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Newer Poems:
One Moment at a Time: TSA 2022 Members’ Anthology Page 84 old growth cedars first spring buds my dad’s ashes buried next to an old trunk Ribbons Fall 2023: Volume 19, Number 3 Page 24 late night at my desk i convert photo slides into digital through my memories i walk in my dad’s footprints Ribbons Fall 2023: Volume 19, Number 3 Page 52 we cast our lines from a shady riverbank rippling breeze pap and i debate who’ll catch the biggest fish deepening leaves: 2022 Seabeck Haiku Getaway Anthology Page 30 rainfall on an empty park bench morning doves coo deepening leaves: 2022 Seabeck Haiku Getaway Anthology Page 73 endless circle of the labyrinth i move on New published poems:
through a hollow through a hollow opens to a meadow full of autumn leaves i walk between bare trees under a frosty sky endless clouds endless clouds float over the valley high above on a gravel mountain road i stay…watch for awhile — Roy Kindelberger, USA leave behind leave behind summer in the suburbs for awhile i rock in my hammock with the mountain breeze — Roy Kindelberger, USA https://scarletdragonflyjournal.files.wordpress.com/2023/03/issue-13-2023-04-april-2.pdf my last scribbled line trails off my notebook dreamland the sun shines down the sun shines down ocean waves sweep the shore my footprints reappear each day across the golden sand — Roy Kindelberger, USA I'm really enjoying this journal. Everyday there are three new poems. Here are a few of mine that I contributed.
scarletdragonflyjournal.wordpress.com/ scarletdragonflyjournal.wordpress.com/category/poets/k/kindelberger-roy/ June 21, 2022 orange glow disappears on the blue sea secrets lost May 21, 2022 old gas station boarded up along a lonely highway the stories left behind embellished apparitions April 26, 2022 the last orange washes into the stars nightlight Ribbons Spring/Summer, Volume 18, Number 2 (Page 94)
Silent Piano My uncle had this beautiful piano. People told me he was pretty good, but I never heard him play. Even if I asked him. I do remember seeing him play his trombone with a big band a few times, though. For years, the piano sat in the den, like a decoration. Only kids really played on it. It's sad. I wonder why he stopped. his old upright piano silent in a corner covered in knickknacks echoes of old songs played out of tune Ribbons Winter: Volume 18, Number 1 (Page 72) A Moment With Myself sunset over a quiet river evening cricket song i turn off the radio above the sea orange fades into the horizon incoming tide washing the day away Self-Portrait: Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology (2021 Page 61) grandma sews her quilts while grandpa tells stories in the parlor both embroidering in their own way www.coloradoboulevard.net/poets-salon-thinking-outside-the-box/?fbclid=IwAR2H7JPCA_ultMyxbEQ4db_YbkGWV09wP-wUVlwIrerc-2uvNoFIuc15JzY
In the Darkness Winter Solstice Eve. I get home from a long day. My two cats greet me. With meows, purrs, and scratching of the furniture. I empty some boxes of Christmas stuff that came in the mail. The kitties, of course, use the boxes. Climbing and hiding. After they’re through I take the boxes to the recycling bin. Unknown to me, one of the cats, the boy, sneaks out behind me. They are house cats. Hours later, I notice. Where’s Nugget? We search the house and then outside. Neighbors tell us there was a traumatized cat outside our door. But he’s nowhere to be found. We shake kitty treats, search trees, and bushes. It’s cold. No kitty. winter solstice cowered under bushes out of the darkness kitty reappears happy reunion He is all wide eyed. And his sister gave him the business. Every time the door opens since, he runs off and hides somewhere in the house. Frogpond Winter 2020 (Page 13) long hike on a hot humid day waterfall www.coloradoboulevard.net/poets-salon-making-our-own-world/?fbclid=IwAR2bGDNjXc4ZWvqgu-akXmpe_mpZi1Ri5HIX-cZTonYiV7urCH-CFcBfTB8
Late January, we drove along the shoreline. It felt as though the car skated on ice. It swayed back and forth. Sandpiper swept the shoreline. Another group swirled in the winter breeze. A break from the continuous rainfall. The waves rushed in and returned again. My wife and I, almost completely alone. It felt like our beach. And out of nowhere, another bird appeared among the sandpiper and seagulls. It didn’t belong. Yet it did. A surprise. out of the blue sun peaks through winter clouds ocean waves an osprey perches, watches from atop driftwood https://www.coloradoboulevard.net/poets-salon-up-there/ Up There I decide to stop time. Make time stand still. Not literally of course. Just stop. And walk. I walk some more. I look up at the trees. I listen to the birds. I smell the sea. I sip my coffee. I feel the breeze. And then sit on a piece of driftwood. At some point, I walk again. Time disappears. i finally stop observe my footprints and rocky cliffs an open journal page sit up with the clouds www.coloradoboulevard.net/poets-salon-a-mountain-with-your-name/
The Mountain The mountain pass. Snowed in during the winter. Closed. During the summer, the windy road leads to a majestic blue lake. Snow still surrounds. Even though many travel. It feels like mine. Peace within. serenity something about the mountains snow covered peaks across the bridge toward an unknown destination /www.coloradoboulevard.net/poets-salon-ordinary-extraordinary/ 5:30. Rush hour. A typical day north of Seattle. After teaching, I join my daughter, Emily, for coffee. We chat, sip our drinks, and read over resume stuff. I look up from our conversation and two ducks peer into the window at us. We laugh and join them outside. city center mall outside a café window two ducks wander a retention pond behind the grocery store |
 AuthorRoy Kindelberger Archives
February 2024
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