First Light
It’s not sunup at Lincoln Greens,
the skies are dark and gray.
But I’m poised to start my work,
on bunkers and fairways.
The mowers sweep across the greens,
the fairways and the tees.
Their eerie lights, their ghost-like shapes,
might startle some–not me!
You lucky folks who sleep ’till eight,
and work from nine to five.
You really don’t know what you miss,
at “first light” and sunrise.
–Max N. McIntyre
Local poets were writing about contemporary events in the Sangamo
Journal as early as the 1830s. People’s Poetry wants you to share your thoughts
on what’s happening in Springfield today–in poetic form. Poems on any subject
will be considered, but ones that deal with issues of local interest are encouraged.
Send yours to poetry editor Lee Gurga, P.O. Box 662, Lincoln, IL 62656, or to
gurga@ccaonline.com with “Bards of
the Sangamo” in the subject line. (Please limit your submissions to poems of
14 lines or less.)
This article appears in Jun 26 – Jul 2, 2003.
