Poems of the Mad Hunter

Fear

I fear my grandchildren are beyond

the redemption of the hunt.

Which worries me.

They may never know the primal truths

that hone a soul to be a person –

hard enough but more so when removed from trees

and hills and stream, learning game,

reading sign.

All necessary to being better today than yesterday.

Lessons that can be taken in.

I hunt and fish religiously.

In ways sacred, where knowing and honoring

and deciding in a split-second matter

as the metaphysical realities they are.

Metaphors full of meaning the wilds give

what no cities can. I worry what kind of stories

my grandchildren will tell sitting around a fire.

Such Beautiful Sense

Such Beautiful Sense

Such Beautiful Sense is a collection of poems written from the same perspective.  My kitchen table and the glass door […]

Monster in the Kingdom

Monster in the Kingdom

Monster in the Kingdom: Fragments from the Grendel Manuscript is my interpretation of  Beowulf and John Gardner’s Grendel.  Fragments because […]

Poems From the Woods

Poems From the Woods

Poems From the Wood came about, still come about, during hunting season.  Which begins, for me, mid-September through nearly the […]

In Our Time

This is an attempt at a flash chapbook of poetry.  These poems were written between April 4, 2020 and April […]

The Art of Griilling

The Art of Grilling

The Art of Grilling, Religious Reflections was written over a series of weeks while grilling dinner.  The grill was under […]

Piercing the Veil

Piercing the Veil

Throughout this invaluable collection, Clary’s photos and Hoot’s poems accomplish that rare and lucky phenomenon of artistic collaboration, their independent muses somehow tapping into a mutual recognition, inspired by the same sources, offering us multi-faceted ways of experiencing these real places, like Sligo, PA and Jackson County, West Virginia, and revealing their hidden spirits.