r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

short fiction  short poetry  short commentary  short...uh..art
 

 

     
  Bernard Quetchenbach

Hermit Poems

 

 
Time and the Hermit
 
You never lose the clock
 
Oh, I left it
partly for mystery
 
but wanted time for real—
evening, autumn
 
Evening, autumn
 
But when the wind dies quick
says seven-thirty
 
and the light at four in winter
says four
 
when I say winter.

 

The Hermit’s Call
 
There’s always been

Someone
in these woods

Look for what
I am

You always have.
 


The Hermit's Parents
 
I  left them where
I wasn't
 
needed
to follow
 
a hat
by railroad tracks
 
an old man
in a stolen boat.


The Hermit's Son

The line ends
here

My broken hat
a sign.

 

 

 

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