THINKING OF FROST, WALLS, AND THE PANDEMIC LONELINESS OF THE OLD

by Darrell Petska

Neighbor, on his side, calls over
to the scratchings of my rake:
“How are you faring?”

“We’re managing.” My voice
clears that slatted wooden fence
neither he nor I erected
nor wished taken down.

Beyond that slender chink:
the most I’ve seen of him for days.
Hale youth to seasoned elder:
“Do you have all you need?”

Opposite that fence a decade,
we’ve seldom spoken—different lives,
yet on this day quite cordially:
“Of goods, yes. Family and friends we miss.”

“Same here,” and “Give a shout
for anything you need. We’ll help.”
Brent. His name I learned
through a postal worker’s error.

“Thank you,” and “Stay well.”
Then back we turn to our private cares,
abiding by a fence unseen, cruel wall
we raise between us as we go.


Darrell Petska, a Wisconsin writer, misses the hugs of his children and grandchildren.

GOOD FENCES MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

by Gil Hoy



Last night I dreamed, 

workers painting my house

Brought all of their children

to work in the morning

With brushes and buckets 

of water, to wash and to clean

To scrub and to scour
the faces,

Like paintings on canvas,

That had appeared overnight
on the walls of my house.

Black faces, white faces,
yellow, red and brown

Faces of every hue and tone,
every size and shape,

And the children all the while
washing and scrubbing

But never hurting the faces.

And me, all the while watching
the children hard at work.

And then, in my dream,
the parents and their children

Began to tear down the Wall
surrounding my house.

By the end of the day,
they had torn down every boulder

And every stone, torn down
the ground-swell beneath,

Until nothing remained of my wall
but green grass and brown earth.

And me, all the while watching
the families hard at work

With a growing sense
of contentment

Coming from deep inside.

Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and trial lawyer who studied poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy received a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science from Boston University, an M.A. in Government from Georgetown University, and a J.D. from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy’s poetry has appeared most recently in Chiron Review, Ariel Chart, Social Justice Poetry, Poetry24, Right Hand Pointing/One Sentence Poems, The Penmen Review, I am not a silent poet, TheNewVerse.News and Clark Street Review.

DIRECTING WALLS

by Gil Hoy

Image source: Banksy FB Revolution

Someone there is who loves a wall,
Setting stones on top of stones,

To keep invading wetbacks out,
To keep glass pearls secure.

He lets our Southern neighbors know--
In blaring braggadocio--

That they must pay to build his wall,
To keep it working as they go.

“But the world’s seen far too many walls,”
Says the frozen-ground-swell beneath,

Says the giggling confusing elf---
Who sees a wall,

No more a wall---
On a farm, no more a farm,

In a country, no more a country.
Someone there is who doesn't love a wall.


Gil Hoy is a Boston trial lawyer who is currently studying poetry at Boston University, through its Evergreen program, where he previously received a BA in Philosophy and Political Science. Hoy received an MA in Government from Georgetown University and a JD from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy started writing poetry two years ago. Since then, his work has appeared in Third Wednesday, The Write Room, The Eclectic Muse, Clark Street Review, TheNewVerse.News , Harbinger Asylum, Soul Fountain, The Story Teller Magazine, Eye on Life Magazine, Stepping Stones Magazine, The Penmen Review, To Hold A Moment Still, Harbinger Asylum’s 2014 Holidays Anthology, The Zodiac Review, Earl of Plaid Literary Journal, The Potomac, Antarctica Journal, The Montucky Review and elsewhere.