The Works of L. Ward Abel

Poet, composer of music (Max Able / Abel, Rawls & Hayes), lawyer and spoken-word performer (Scapeweavel),L. Ward Abel lives in rural Georgia, USA, and has had hundreds of his poems  published in the U.S., Europe and Asia.  He is the author of Peach Box and Verge (Little Poem Press, 2003), Jonesing For Byzantium (UK Authors Press, 2006) and newly released The Heat of Blooming (Pudding House Press, 2008).

 

All Poems © L. Ward Abel

A Gathering of Things 

 
          Another month goes by.
The music builds across the creek,
morning cracks like a bloodshot eye
and I gather my things.
There’s a chill I hadn’t noticed,
it buttons up shirts that I couldn’t
wear until now.
          Goodbye to all
that shouldn’t matter but does. I’m picking up
where I should never have left off.
Old but only because of memory,
old for lack of a better word, tested
from all that was put in my way,
resolved from a lack of choice. And
another month goes by.

 


Drought Is Over


Packs of showers
roam the countryside tonight.
Summer gives up the ghost
of water.


I choose to turn off music
and just listen, as the waves now
pass over beyond out


it’s already night. West
to east, my breathing
understands. I just
breathe.


Breathe like the fish
that I am, while my heart
does all its work in this
rain.


The stain of watching has
become an obsession;
little storms have conspired
after all this time, joined
like a name over me.


Sometimes there’s a gentleness
in things. Sometimes there’s a
cruelty. Their confluence
can own me. But even as we speak
the drought is over.


Portal Fear



My heart ain’t in it /

but I’ll hold the door.
                        -Gregg Allman


Cold the august rain
hot the winter snow
cold the heat of Cuba coming up
molten Hudson Bay
hard the life when things move on
move on from sentience
the space that retained and then
relinquished. They tell me
that a law of physics teaches us
no energy ever passes away
nothing really dies. But no one
relishes the door.