Hoosier Poet

Monday, February 16, 2026

Working until the End

Working until the End

“Why are you going to work today, Dad?”
My daughter asked, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Today is supposed to be really bad,
Jimmy says it’s the day everyone dies!”
I kiss her forehead and pull her in close,
“Everything will be alright, my princess!”
I forced a smile, and booped her little nose,
“Don’t you listen to what that Jimmy says,
I won’t be gone long, I’ll be back real soon,
The apocalypse won’t start without me.”
Assured, she skipped away singing a tune,
while I turned away before she could see
the fear on my face as I turned my eyes
to the strange new ships floating in our skies.

Monday Fog

Monday Fog

I, with broken sleep,
and this warm thawing morning,
stumble to a start.

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Sunday Shake

Sunday Shake

Dish washing. Dancing.
Daughter walks in, makes a face,
Then backs out slowly.

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Parentalia

Parentalia

Candles and incense,
Milk, honey, wine, and small cakes
Prayer and memory...

Friday, February 13, 2026

Practice

Practice

A flash of anger,
I note it. I smother it.

Restoring my mind.

Thursday, February 12, 2026

Close Call

Close Call

An old truck pulls out
and dies before it can cross,
I slam on my brakes.

Wednesday, February 11, 2026

Ask yourself

Ask Yourself.

It is said that a man can change his stars,
and can change his path delivered by fate,
that he must simply reach out and take charge
and transform his life into something great.
By sheer will alone, and daily life’s deeds,
no matter the cards he holds in his hand,
he can do more than barely meet his needs,
he can hold prosperity in his command.
So why shouldn’t I try to change my own,
to change the path that I have been walking,
to cast off these chains and aim for the throne,
to ignore the masses and their mocking?
Why should I care for mocking cold and shrill
when not one of their words pays for my bills?