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B.R. WARNER
About B.R. Warner

 

 

Home Tonight

The night swells to a melting point
Thatís been simmering since noon.
Chills and moisture ache each joint;
Relief wonít be coming soon.

Earthly souls retract all boasts,
Calmness leaves all faces.
Coyotes, horses, hounds and ghosts
Seek out their peaceful places.

The storm rumbles in, lights blow out.
Breaths heave fast and shorter
Squalls rage from west, north, east and south.
The roads sink under water.

Clouds dark and low blanket the hills
Nearby and in the distance.
Lightning licks wet window sills;
As thunders crack the silence.

Parched yesterdays havenít left in vain,
To them this stormís indebted.
On such a night all prayers for rain
Are cancelled and regretted.

Lake and river, levee and lea
Are brimmed with snarling foam.
Nowhere outside is safe to be.
Thereís now no place like home.

© 2009, B.R.Warner
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


B.R. Warner comments "Home Tonight" is a retelling of nature being equally stern and spirited, unrelenting in its authority, dismantling the countenance of a day and withholding the comforts of night, yet leaving intact enough for simple gratitudes.
 


 

About B.R. Warner:

I have published brief attempts at free verse, a form I respect but find skeletal and wanting of the rhythmic harmonies offered by rhyme. Much of my good poetry is scrolled and tucked into old boots that have settled beyond their duty and now slouch in postures shaped by wear and time. Those pages of verse, stocked in my worn-out footwear, recite much of my past and present mileage.

My bio is otherwise uneventful. I shy away from artificially large and loud places, have nothing material that is too personally precious to be lost, shared or replaced, and I honor the confidence of those who trust me. I respect law, relate to order and revere the wonder of nature's processes, particularly life's gift of reproducing itself in both variety and similarity. I adore the faces of loved ones in all forms present and past; yet I dodge self-photography and cringe at being compelled to confront that curdling inner conflict at driver's license renewal time.

Looking inward and outward, I find our world to be entertaining in both fusion and confusion, at times intimidating, often a bit too shrill, at other times challenging and exacting, but, most of all, cradling, from our beginning to our inevitable ending. As best as I am able, I steadfastly accept and manage life's offerings, the roses along with the thorns.
 



 

 

 

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