This week let’s write a backyard poem. With summer fast approaching those of us in the northern hemisphere, maybe you’ll be spending more time in the backyard, either your current or perhaps ones from your youth. While we may not have a literal backyard, we all have figurative ones, so there’s no NIMBY excuse. Post what’s in your backyard in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Living Poetry 
Writing Spot
I spent many lone nights
swaddled in a rainbow hammock
by the crackling firepit
in my manicured backyard
under the clear stary sky
in cold deep winters
Many poems were born
from frozen fingers tapping
on a frosted screen
when the embers started to go out
in the wee hours of the night
With a final sense of satisfaction
I straightened my beanie
wrapped myself in the wool blanket
resettled in my ugg boots
hurried into the house
where everybody I loved
were all in a deep sleep
LikeLiked by 3 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | May 31, 2021, 10:32 AMA gorgeous portrait of a poet. Well done! Hope Winter is starting well for you.
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 31, 2021, 10:48 AMThese days oil heater is on in an apartment 😂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | May 31, 2021, 5:31 PMSuch a lovely dedication to warming the words in the cool of the night.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 6, 2021, 8:47 AMIn the cool of the evening
out in the woods beyond my backyard
Wood Thrushes sing a song of joy
to everything that cares to hear
In the breeze, leaves gently bow
as It moves past each one
in turn
Out front, trucks rumble past
radios too loud
to notice the song
or the woods
so near
But here
here in the Backyard
in the liminal nightfall
every evening is a thin time
each moment, a chorus
calling us to join in
LikeLiked by 3 people
Posted by Chris Clarke | May 31, 2021, 5:12 PMLove that last stanza!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 31, 2021, 8:48 PMYes, the last stanza!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | June 1, 2021, 3:41 AMI felt like I was there. Well done.
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 6, 2021, 8:46 AMLikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by JeanMarie | June 1, 2021, 1:39 PMLove the small hands clenched into fists. Great example of showing and not telling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 1, 2021, 5:08 PMThanks Bart
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | June 1, 2021, 6:23 PMAlso, I don’t know why the link put a preview into the box. It’s never done that before and it seems a bit much. We’ll put it down to WordPress weirdness.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by JeanMarie | June 1, 2021, 6:29 PMYeah, that’s a new “feature”.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 1, 2021, 6:40 PMI am not sure my blog comment came through. I wanted to say this poem is outstanding and I don’t mean in the backyard 😉 This poem needs to be featured somewhere.
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 6, 2021, 8:45 AMLikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 1, 2021, 9:20 PMthe backyard is shared
with neighbors and their kids and
dogs who like to sniff
there was a lady who walk her cat
such a tiny furrball named Keelee
I miss them
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 4, 2021, 6:10 PMNice image. Love the details.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | June 4, 2021, 6:15 PMThank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Lisa Tomey | June 6, 2021, 8:42 AM