Poet in the Guard Shack

My younger sister works as a security guard and when Christmas is over, it gets very boring, so to perk her up I asked her to write about it in poetry.  Here they are…

Sitting in My Little Guard Hut

Sitting in my little guard hut,

Hardly anyone coming or going, but

My mind wanders to and fro:

Grocery lists, to do lists, time passes so slow.

The gate opens, “Oh! Some excitement now,”

but men are just working, so I crinkle my brow

and concentrate on writing this poem

to pass the time until I go home. (sigh)


Power Outage

We have a power outage today.

So, no heat in my guard hut and I may

freeze to death from the inclement weather.

I wished for double socks and an additional sweater.

But I’m stuck here and therefore I must make do

so I ordered from Doordash (they bring food to you).

Two cups of hot tea arrived after awhile.

My hands on the hot cups thawed me out and I smiled.

I just might survive today without getting sick.

I’ll know tomorrow if the hot tea did the trick.

The Lone Goldenrod

One tall colorful plant stands proudly in the empty field

having its lower body denuded yet still sporting

golden yellowish flowers on its upper quarter, surviving

determinedly against rains, winds, and now three frosts

towering above dead clumps of fallen comrades, patches of

short new green grasses, teaching me through the

kitchen window to bloom in spite of weed poisoning

brutal mowing, weather, loneliness and approaching winter

God teaches me about power, even through wild flowers—just one