Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

It is not that long ago since we had a poem from Carole Spearin McCauley of Hanover, New Hamshire and because of the encouragingly large number of entries we receive every week, it may often be months before we get around to a second poem by the same author.

This week we've broken our own rules and allowed Carole to jump the queue. Carole's poem is excellent and captivating in depth and meaning and of such an unusual format; it is certainly new to me, that I felt our readers would enjoy the experience. Well done Carole!

Carole is a medical writer/editor, the author of 12 books, both nonfiction and mystery novels.

Her short work (poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews) has appeared in about 200 periodicals, anthologies, and online sites.

Seven pieces and a photo have won prizes in national or international contests that include USA Today (haiku) and Radio Netherlands Worldwide (humorous verse about human cloning).

Four chapters of her latest novel ms., How She Saved Her Life, appear soon in North Atlantic Review (Stonybrook, Long Island). She earned a recent M.A. in writing at Manhattanville College, Purchase, NY.

The Box

Full fathom five His wooden dory howling seas. but broken boards My mother's name - We burned the boat splintered scraps His whole life So I scoop pewter box "Ashes are trash," "Scatter them for Sea must

But such a mean
deserves his
"Let there be
For I shall see
surely meet
face to face
crossed that bar."

So Mam and I
under leather lid
but mostly keep
to have what
my father lies
vanished, tossed in
What we found -
of Mary Ann.
it's that.
found wrecked ashore
just ashes now.
swallowed, drowned.
gray crumbles into
with leather lid
the neighbors claim.
beyond the shoals,
claim its own."

of heft and girth
truest words:
no sad embark,
my Pilot there,
my Captain
when I have

polish the box
to honor our dead
what we possess
we have not

© Carole Spearin McCauley