From the Embers

Tomorrow is an idle place

Stripped of recollection,

Passage to an unmarked grave

Awash in good intentions.

Memories defy the clock,

Breach the shadow's veil;

Spring anew from ashen beds

Suspended in my mind.

I stir the embers, feel the warmth

That cannot be denied,

When stars and lovers, hand-in-hand,

Stroll through summer nights.

I listen as the laughter there

Echoes down the halls

And youth returns to pirouette

Between the passive hands.

James O. Kelly

 Englewood, FL

2/12/10

“Introducing Uncle Joe”

April is National Poetry Month. For the last two years, and again this year, I’ve been honored to be the Poetry Reviewer for the Suncoast Writers Guild’s Annual Review. Two weeks in advance of the Review, I received the entry poems. They are not wearing names and I have no idea who wrote what. Last year in 2009, I was so taken with a couple of the poems; I struggled to find anything I could improve upon to help the writer. They were flawless! 

I found myself trying to visualize the writer. I assumed it was a male although there was no mention of ‘nephew’ there; it could have been a niece. Still, the vision came as a brawny soul a bit rough around the edges. Yet, he’d have an outdoorsy face lined with wrinkles and eyes that shouted of wisdom. Perhaps, it was Uncle Joe himself that was forming images on my mind walls.

As I gave my verbal comments following the reading of each entry, I’d subtly scan the room looking for a face that shone of recognition. These people are well trained in anonymity, I thought. Not a clue was offered. The procedure continued through the reading of the “Uncle Joe” poems. Not as much a hint from the group.

My own enthusiasm for “Uncle Joe” was not as easily subdued. Praise was lavished and even the indication that I could see the beginnings of a movie script was offered. Now, to patiently wait until the individual authors came forward to claim their work and written scores. A quiet, almost baby-faced gentleman, slight but tall with a crop of beautiful silver hair approached. That’s how and when I met James O. Kelly, and now it gives me immense pleasure to help bring him to the world of cyberspace. It was meant to be . . . .

Susan Haley

Author/Editor/Award-winning Poet

Uncle Joe

Uncle Joe was a WW2 vet, a restless man with a heart of gold. His deep laugh and sense of humor endeared him to friends and strangers alike. After his discharge from the army, he stayed with his sister, Margaret, in Erie, Pennsylvania.

          “I’ve got itchy feet,” he would say. Then off to the rail yard he’d go to hop a freight heading somewhere he thought he had to be. Weeks or months would pass before this gaunt and disheveled man reappeared. His returns were greeted with great enthusiasm by his nephews and nieces. Uncle Joe thrilled them with tales of his adventures and characters he’d met along the way.

          I cannot call Uncle Joe anything less than a wanderer. He visited places I never would see, met people I never would know. His colorful history inspired me to write of these episodes and keep Uncle Joe and the memories alive.

James O. Kelly

Nephew