Hutchmoot in Verse

If you don’t know what Hutchmoot is, click here to get a little more confused about the whole idea.

For those of you who have been to Hutchmoot, I hope this bit of verse glimpses a familiar moment, even if your moment happened in a different seat with a different set of characters.

(Currently) Untitled

My pencil records that
which should not be forgotten
as another quote takes its place
in the cramped apartment of my brain.
I shift and shove furniture around,
wondering where to put all the guests,
while my hand scribbles on and on.

By the time the bell rings,
my head is heavy with new occupants,
and I navigate the crowds, avoiding questions.
How was your session?
people are eager to ask me,
but Dillard is still unpacking,
while Chesterton fixes a cup of tea,
and Plato sits in the corner sulking
at his motley crew of flat mates.
Lewis and Rawlings are
fighting over who gets the
window seat for supper and this
din of musical chairs,
has left me breathless and dumb.

Arriving at my bench I invite
the time-traveling tenants
into the wide-open stretch
and they heed my call,
climbing out onto tree limbs
reclining on slides and swings,
giving us all a little room to breathe.

Later, when it’s time to
collect my thoughts,
now dusted with earth,
October leaves askew in L’Engle’s hair,
I notice they’ve settled in nicely,
clearing space just in time
to make room for the residents,
of the post-lunch session.


Rabbits, any suggestions for a title?



2 Comments so far

  1. Peter B October 18th, 2013 10:08 pm

    You captured that aspect perfectly! As for a title… the Miracle of Not Forgetting?

    (apologies to Eric Peters)

    Maybe later.

  2. Karen Buck October 19th, 2013 7:59 pm

    I don’t know what to call it, but it’s completely wonderful!

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