Pleased to share a new poem titled “Over My Shoulder,” now up and running at Canopic Jar, a fine literary imprint formerly based in Nashville, now operating in Woodstock, Illinois, where Tennessee native and poet Phil Rice gathers the words from a bevy of fine writers, sending them out into the ethers for all of us to enjoy. Spend some time and check other fine voices at the Jar, if you can. Thanks for the read.
“Over My Shoulder” (the Doug Hoekstra)
Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no seeking
The words chase me across the page as I walk
Book in hand, simple aspiration
The path I’ve walked a hundred times before
Tall trees in a shaded forest, autumn sun
Chasing me, a favorite time of year, no fear
Random thoughts from the week before
A dream about an imaginary show, where
There was no time to practice. Set list scrawled.
Conversations meaning something different
Spilling tea. Always trying to listen better
Always listening and then losing what I feel
Hickory nuts fall over my shoulder — landing
Loudly on the muddy ground — slowly
Sinking deeper for someone else to find
Another place or time, it could be different
A log split open from decay, so I can pass
Others follow, making their own way
Doug Hoekstra 