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King Tide

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Regarding "King Tide"

The Christmas and Hanukkah
Seasons have the potential to be over-whelmed
By the attention being given to Covid…
It has been 2020’s most dominant story,
Far-surpassing anything else,
Even in a Presidential election news
Cycle. Other traditions such as
Kwanzaa, a secular, spiritual one
Which celebrates pan-African culture
And the African-American
Way of life, are equally in danger
Of being swamped by the “king” tide
Effect of living in this time of
A worldwide pandemic. In Hindu,
Diwali (or Divali), the joyful festival of
Lights, occurred last month on
November 14th, and had to contend
With the virus’s dark! The very
Essence of each these holiday seasons,
Even a secular one like Festivus,
Is the coming together of family and
Friends, and, in general, sharing
And partaking in bonhomie.
All are shaken to their very
Cores now…Even as I write this,
One of my daughters said,
“Dad, I guess we won’t be seeing
You on Christmas,” the look
In her eyes one I will not forget.
My insides screamed out,
“No, I will see you…!”
But how best and safely
In the coming weeks to still
Be determined…! Jesse Jackson
Is famous for saying, “Keep
Hope alive!” I believe our duty,
Our responsibility this year,
Is to somehow do just that…Our best
Way to strike at the heart of
Covid is the lighting of
Even just one Christmas or
Hanukkah candle, or the
Singing of just one Kwanzaa
Song, or the eating of just one
Diwali sweet snack, or the airing of
Just one Seinfeld-like, Festivus
“Grievance,” all while
Somehow prudently gathering,
And knowing the best
Antidotes are faith and the
Indomitable will of the human
Spirit to never give up!

Leo Carroll
December 9, 2020

 

It washed o’er my defenses,
Rising gently at first, but
My bastions were soon breached,
My seawall caught asleep,
My mind submerging ‘neath a
High tide with no antidote earthen,
Wave after wave piling
In, and their frigid hues
Gazing up at the cold
Moon, whose face, in turn,
Stared back with a chameleon’s
Covid smirk…

Leo Carroll
December 4, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Ricardo Resende (via Unsplash.com)
Image of bog

In the Midst

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Regarding "In the Midst"

A “king” tide is when the sun
And moon align with each
Other, and the gravitational
Pull on the earth is at its
Absolute strongest. One such
Tide recently affected
Boston on November 16th,
When there was surprise flooding
In Boston’s Seaport District
And shutting down traffic.
It was a king tide which
Came to my mind when I
Was trying to equate the
Confluence of events which
Recently spun me into my own
Riptide. For I briefly found
Myself treading water in a
Metaphorical, strong
Ocean current, which, as
Much as anything, was caused
By the grinding, relentless
Burnout of ten months of
Covid (with no clear end in sight),
Together with the gloom
Of November’s declining
Weather and light, and with
My own furies adding a
Topping and dash of
Their unique spice…!

Leo Carroll
November 28, 2020

 

(Covid, Late Fall 2020)

A cold dampness settled
Within me, brought on by an
Endless Covid November and its
Drooling rain and the truth of
My age and the ground
Beneath having no name.
Everything seemed brown
About me, adrift, and wherever
My mind walked, it found
Itself floundering in a
Medieval bog, where to
Escape the muck my best
Path was to press forward and
Get further lost…

Leo Carroll
November 26, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Krystian Piatek (via Unsplash.com)

Red Maple Leaf

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Regarding "Red Maple Leaf"

O’ how autumn casts
A spell up’n me, placing me into
An annual rite of reflection,
Making my September
And October susceptible to
All the memories composing
Who I am. The memories alight
Like chickadees whene’er
I hear a zephyr stirring
In the tops of trees, or see
The striking red plumage
Of maples doing their best to
To op’n my eyes to see,
Or as I sit the shores of Plum
Island and experience the
Hues of waves turning from
Cold to an e’en colder
Green…What heartstrings
Are pulled, sometimes I
Cannot e’en identify, ‘cept
I feel there is something
I am longing for…
And the transient beauty
Of fall and its fleeting
Glimpse are simply too
Irresistible for me
Not to savor and overly
Imbibe…

Leo Carroll
November 5, 2020

 

A single leaf, the red
Majesty of a maple before me
Pleased to be seen,
Something about it,
Something sublime,
Something I love, felt every
October when my
Reflection turns into
Waxing rhyme,
Something which
Uncannily lingers within
Me, cuddled ‘neath
The covers and spooning
Alongside my soul,
Winter soon to come,
But autumn’s colors
My brothers and sisters
From a long ago
Primeval old…

Leo Carroll
October 23, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Leo Carroll

Leaves and Verses

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Regarding "Leaves and Verses"

When we marvel at an
Autumn tree in all its glory, still
Full-bodied with magnificent leaves,
At first glance the leaves may
Appear more or less the
Same, but each, in fact, is
Different, and when a closer
Peek is taken, is shown
The majesty of a widely
Diverse Creation. Just like us!
A tree replete with leaves
Can be viewed like a portrait
Composite of ourselves, with all
Our innumerable moods,
Thoughts, and emotions, some
Fleeting, some longer lasting,
Some leaves slipping to
The ground early, while others
Lingering before falling
To the soil, everything
Transitory but at the same
Time regenerative, nothing ever
Lost, everything part of
Our human nature and in its
Own right profound,
All things working together
To show the complexity
Of the Universe’s work of art,
And, yes, as reflected
In our very own existence!

Leo Carroll
October 20, 2020

 

Each leaf, each varied hue,
A metaphor for my thoughts, my
Emotions, my moods, and now each one
Fated to fall to the ground –
Taking with it my pleadings, my
Thanksgivings, my autumns,
My springs, my memories,
My choices, my regrets, my
Victories, and soon to be all lying
Mixed and interchangeable
And undecipherable up’n the
Earth, until a plow someday churns
Them into rich soil, to be
Spread like butter again up’n
Next year’s verse…

Leo Carroll
October 15, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Elaina Carroll

At the Well

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Regarding "At the Well"

At anytime and anywhere can
Be found relief, especially relief from
Our very selves, or relief from
What is going on around us — the
General cacophony of noise
In the guise of supposed sound —
And at the moment of this
Writing, the incredible
Crescendo of Covid-19 and
Politics, all mind numbing and
Soul deadening, unless
For a moment we can “see”
The natural world which
In its glory is still unfolding
Around us, and which is
Oblivious and immune to the
Fury which humanity
Wreaks and manifests…
In my rock garden, the
Faces of three flower petals –
Petunia, marigold, and
Daisy – descendants of
Descendants of descendants,
Living proof that not all
Life has to bow before the
Obscene, and definitely sufficient
To halt me in my tracks
As I browsed amongst my
Flower beds, already working to
Ready them for next spring,
Sadly like an automaton in my
Actions, and almost missing
Their three faces, reminding me
That fall was not yet
A memory…

Leo Carroll
October 12, 2020

 

Their faces circle
Faster and faster before me,
Autumn’s smile to
Slacken my thirst, whirring as
If inviting me to cross
Their threshold,
Their door wide-open,
My knees pressed to the leaves,
Their roots in the
Universe, my countenance
Inching closer, my
Mind in glorious blur…

Leo Carroll
October 9, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photos by Leo Carroll