Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Starry Starry Night

(You Look Very Familiar)

While you were making 

your grand entrance 

shining in regal ascendence 

to assume your rightful place 

as the light dimmed

and all fell silent 

with awe and respect

I once again suffered

my private embarrassment

that though you looked 

so very familiar

I could not remember

if you were a star 

or a planet

and all I could do 

was study your movement

long enough to make sure 

your elegant saunter across the night sky

was not an attempt 

at a graceful landing 

at the airport.

Please forgive me,

your name again?

Ken Owen   November 2020

Van Niddy Press

Saturday, November 7, 2020

Eleven Weeks

(The Smell of Pancakes)

The fog seemed to lift early this morning

making way for a relaxed sun 

and a cool gentle breeze

that could barely raise enough energy 

to make the tree tops move

and somewhere from our apartment building

someone was cooking pancakes 

which gave the day a sweetness 

that had felt missing 

for quite a while.

The news showed people in large crowds 

dancing, parading, cheering in celebration

in relief knowing that someone else

someone new

would now try to make right

what the last person

could only make worse

while the losing side

as is now to be expected

could only manufacture complaints

of corruption, malfeasance 

and suspicious results which

reminded us that our divide 

still needed great repair and

would not disappear


and even though I could share 

in the relief of seeing 

a new start on the horizon

I couldn’t keep from wondering

after all the trials this year had laid before us

how many more challenges

for ourselves and our democracy

would we have to endure

over the next eleven weeks

before we could start again.

November 7, 2020

Ken Owen    Van Niddy Press

Monday, November 2, 2020

The First Monday in November

Tomorrow night

there will be great celebrations and rejoicing

that our country’s path forward 

is once again clear

while at the same time

much consternation and wailing

that the end of our democracy 

is imminent 

and yet the next day

the sun will rise as expected

and stay low in the autumn sky

painting a warm glow on all we see

as we move forward with the day’s tasks

while trying not to be overwhelmed 

by the great divide we’ve carried since birth

that marks us still.

Ken Owen     November 2020

Van Niddy Press