TERRESTRAIL ILLUMINATION, NO. 179
I was born on a farm.
At four I was forced to live in city.
I wanted to stay on farm,
To see every morning a green heron atop
The new green, sunlit-brightened green
New growth of a pine.
Now aged, I observe a farm, airplane, poison,
Tractor, treeless, no pines, and the urban life of farmers.
Although I never liked where I was,
I now understand the farm is no place to desire.
TERRESTRAIL ILLUMINATION, NO. 180
Old gold that spreads over fallen pine,
Now crumbled into loose piles
Of blonde and beige wood,
You and your splendor was brought
To my attention by the arrival
Of a false-eye, black beetle.
I should call this small beetle,
True professor or true priest, for this beetle
Has revealed the sacred and enchantment,
The old gold that covers the decaying pine.
Duane Locke lives in Tampa, Florida near anhinga,
gallinules, raccoons, alligators, etc.
He has published 6,640 poems, includes 29 books of poems. His latest
book publication, April 2012,
Is DUANE LOCKE, THE FIRST DECADE, 1968-1978, BITTER OLEANDER PRESS.
This book is a republication
Of his first eleven books, contains 333 pages. Order from
He is also aphotographer of Surphotos and Nature. Has had 405
surphotos published in e zines
And many were used for magazine and book covers. A book of 40 of his
surphotos has been published by Blaze box—POETIC IMPRINTS, RESPONSES
TO THE ART OF DUANE LOCKE.