Poems by Jacob Friesenhahn
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Oyamel
by Jacob Friesenhahn
Jacob lives in the Cibolo Creek watershed. He lives along Elm Creek, a tributary of Cibolo Creek. These creeks are like nature's highways, though without the great destruction caused by humanmade highways.
they seem too delicate
to travel so far
an impossible journey
made annually
they arrive tattered
with stories to tell
with wings frayed
like torn lace
of black and gold
many were smashed
and shattered
on our paved roads
somehow a few
still look healthy
some loitered too
long in Texas
only to perish
in the first freeze
near the beginning
of every November
monarchs drift
like orange leaves
down into Mexico
like the souls of our dead
they must fly in search of
a safe place to go
finally they find us
they mate and feed
they rest
among the milkweed
today I watch them
floating in my garden
while I sip hot tea
I have all afternoon
finally they are here
and I know soon
they must leave
© Jacob Friesenhahn
The Naming of the Animals
by Jacob Friesenhahn
From Canary Spring 2024
I don’t know why but I look
long enough to know what
the black and gray rings of a raccoon
the shaggy fur of a dog sometimes wearing a collar
the athletic body struck stiff of a deer
the pointed ears usually alert of an unlucky feline
but sometimes identification fails
in the seconds it takes to pass
but what were you?
who were you when walking running turning
not expecting to collide?
all inside out and red and orange and white
but what name did you hear from the mouth
of Adam when you were first drawn
first painted into existence?
I want to say that name
© Jacob Friesenhahn