RICK HARTWELL

Rick Hartwell is a retired middle school teacher (remember the hormonally-challenged?) living in Southern California. He believes in the succinct, that the small becomes large; and, like the Transcendentalists and William Blake, that the instant contains eternity. Given his “druthers,” if he’s not writing, Rick would rather still be tailing plywood in a mill in Oregon. He can be reached atrdhartwell@gmail.com. 

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                    Ecce Alieni
 
Night shadows, day shadows,
each of dissimilar nature;
being used to day shadows,
encountering friends, alter
egos, constant companions
of sunlit days; however,
night shadows are strangers,
soulless interlopers of dark.
 
Traveling through the
living room at two a.m.,
no lights, not wanting to
disturb a sleeping family;
encountering the alien
behind the Japanese screen,
three-legged, elongated
head, square-jawed, I’m
momentarily disarmed.
 
Slow realization arises;
new tripod telescope,
moved yesterday to clean,
but no less alien for all the
dawning awareness; then
stealing away with the scope
into the backyard, before
false dawn, pushing to
meet my fears.  Behold
the alien worlds above!

                         Judas Goat
 
Despised, reviled, vilified, his
                        infamy lingers
in myth and village folklore
                        used to shame
the too young and too old as
                        to the depths
of their betrayals of others’
                        certain trust.
 
But was it so? Was he set up?
                        Or prophesy fulfilled?
 
By some recounts he was a
                        pawn used
like some lamb or goat led to
                        future slaughter
almost as accounts in Old History
                        books  depict, but
brought forth into the New Light’s
                        redemptive history.
 
But was it so? Was he set up?
                        Or prophesy fulfilled?
 
As the robber on the right-hand
                        declaring belief,
forgiveness might have been
                        granted him
to sit at an ethereal table with
                        all others
who followed the journey of
                        distance and depth.
 
But if that’s so it was setup and
                        prophesy fulfilled –
 
Then such an unearthly slab
                        need be round,
slighting none of those seated of
                        plan or pardon
who, obligated by mandate to
                        do their part,
are rewarded for their resolve
                        and allegiance.
 
But if that’s so, it was setup and
                        prophesy fulfilled –
 
Thus, he should be a guest at
                        the Man’s table;
exonerated for having no say
                        in the matter
curbed of his free will to act
                        as he wanted,
shunning payment other than
                        to feast above.
 
More than on a technicality,
on a tree hangs his absolution.
 

Synchronicity
Jubilant robins’ chorus
Spring rain’s tremolo