Patron

I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my work...like mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: rikwrybac@yahoo.com via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.

THANK YOU!

Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)yahoo.com

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Saturday, December 12, 2015

The Wind

The wind pushed trees
in a bully's attempt
to game the playground
just the other day

They stumbled a bit
as if there
was another wind
on the ground
just behind their knees

Each tree had seen
this trick before
as trees are often
older than they say

Each year is much the same
to us on the same playground
though our roots
are rarely as sturdy
as we'd like them to be

Sometimes we fall over
not from any wind
that raises itself before us
but from falling years

Each year crashes into us
as if propelled by
an accidental push
from an unseen hand
to which was cocked a shaking fist

Hopeless standing our ground
we wish we could
fly through leafless trees
in an imagination of wind

Those leafless trees
are often the later years
in which our health
forces a rooting
to an unfamiliar place

And so we let the wind of years
though our leafless branches
accepting the constant
push from the bully of time


Barry G. Wick


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