DESTINATION HOME

Poetry by Lyn Gardener and Delbert R. A. Gardner

Editor's note: Lyn Gardner and her father, Delbert, shared a love of literature and writing. Lyn keeps here father’s legacy alive by continuing to share his work. She offered these words by way of introduction to the poetry we feature from her, and her late father's estate, this issue:

“Some of my first memories of my father include his excitement as he'd read us a poem or story he’d just completed on his big, black manual typewriter in the... Read more...

- Meagan Dye, Editor

REFRESHMENT FROM BEYOND THE CITY'S GRASP

By Lyn C. A. Gardner

Cool and frosty--
Like a glint of ice
Or a long, windy, cradle night
In the home of my childhood;
Like a breath of cool, mystically-chilling air--
A breath of delicious winter,
Or the desert’s night-beauty;
A draught from a cool, wine-sweet stream;
Oh, like a still, unuttered sigh:
High above and far away,
Sending a cold,
Darting, magical glance
Through the panes of my windows,
Out of reach of the city’s artificial glow,
Shines the full moon,
And on my floor, up along one wall--

Pure moonlight!

First published in print in Bellowing Ark, Vol. 24, No. 2, March/April 2008

SCENES IN AN AIRPORT

by Delbert R. Gardner

        Beneath ground level in Atlanta,
        Travelers intent on changing planes
        Converge upon the subway.
        The automatic car doors open,
        And speakers blurt metallic monotone:
                     "Please enter the car
                     And stand away from the doors.
                     The next stop is Concourse C,
                     Colored blue on the subway map.
                     The car is about to start;
                     Please hang on."

        The travelers jostle through the doors
        In childlike trust that, though there is
        No pilot, this conveyance still
        Is guided by intelligence.
        In the tunnel outside the car,
        Another robotic voice blares out:
                     "Warning: Do not enter!
                     The doors are about to close."

        The electric car jerks into motion,
        Picks up speed till walls are a blur
        Of yellow which turns to blue in seconds.
        The metallic monotone warns:
                     "The car is approaching the station.
                     Please hang on."

        The car's decrease in speed
        Is drastic, like the starting up.
        Forward sway the passengers
        Till the car comes grinding to a stop;
        Then they sway back again, like tuning forks.
        "This is Concourse C, code blue,"
        Intones the recorded voice.
        Passengers depart the car
        And hustle to the escalator.

        Going upward in a crowd
        On automatic stairs,
        I pass a tide of people coming down,
        Their hands on the rail but inches from mine.
        Random faces momentarily
        Impinge upon my consciousness;
        My face no doubt is also quickly sponged
        From their tabula rasa.

        Memory of sidewalks in Manhattan
        Teeming with weekend shoppers--
        Was that pursuit apace with this?
        No, the impression here is different:
        Those shoppers all had a similar purpose,
        But these travelers, though they all
        Share the object of moving through space,
        Have many diverse reasons for wanting
        To occupy the space they'll reach.

        The flight attendant's parting words,
        Heard on the airplane's intercom,
        Come back to mind:
                     "If this is your final destination,
                     Thank you for flying Delta,
                     And have a nice day!"

        No, it's not the final destination,
        I would guess, for any of us,
        Even if some travelers stop here.
        Our airline tickets are for many
        Different cities, including this one.
        But each of us has a further aim,
        I think, than reaching a certain city--
        Though someone in that city may
        Seem to represent the goal,
        Or be a means to help us reach it.

        The youth in the orange tee-shirt
        Aims to be a football star.
        The attractive blonde in business suit
        Has designs on an executive chair.
        The uniformed soldier wants to find
        A girl who'll make him feel a hero.
        The boy of nine, between his parents,
        Plans to explore his grandparents' farm
        And scare off space invaders.
        The teen-age girl in blue-striped blouse,
        Going to visit her father, is scheming
        How to get her parents together.
        The mother who steered her grown son's wheelchair
        Down the moving sidewalk
        Dreams he will rise and make
        His way in the world.
                                        And I?
        I want more time with my wife,
        Time with my family,
        Time to write--
        And something worthwhile to say.

About Lyn Gardener and Delbert R. A. Gardner



 

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