Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry
Poetry of the People
Shower the world with crackling leaves,
Dead and limp before but now firm
From frozen dew, this ground your signal
To the creatures you watch in the night.
Shower the broken places with jangles
Of icy prairie grass and let the spring thaw
Spark life never imagined, never believed
In the time of winter’s locked prison.
Shower me with kisses melting hours
Apart, reclaiming late winter sun
When we walked along a silent river
And I saw how you had changed my life.
for Ken
–Shaun Perkins
The ravine is littered with fallen branches
From elm trees refusing to become corpses,
With the crumpled bark of sycamore
And the decaying cedar that crackles
Like popcorn when you put it into the fire.
Beat your chest, lover, and summon the gods
Who made you to gloat upon your power,
Your camouflaged care, your with-one-paper
Kindling responding to the placement
By intentional hands, bringing me beauty. Continue reading “What Remains”
You hold the prints of my terrier dog Socks, the dog of my son’s childhood who died after the ice storm of 2007. You held her prints for a week after she was gone. I still remember walking by them when I went around the house. They were in the dark place where the sun doesn’t reach beneath the southern edge of the carport. You didn’t take her, but I will always remember when she left because of that path you kept after she was gone. You are a season for imprints. Continue reading “Dear Winter,” 
Dandelion in winter
Has lost its head
It did not roll down a hill
Nor drown in an ocean
Though the ocean may have
Longed for it
Sumac seeds and wildflower,
Pine cone and pine needle,
All watched
And said nothing.
–Shaun Perkins
My junior class collected things on the ground outside the other day and made poems out of them.
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 