NC Poet Laureate by Helen Losse

—for Shelby Stephenson

It’s sure to be cold
at your inauguration
in Raleigh. Early in February,

it might even rain. You’ll
shine, dressed for the occasion,
complete with umbrella,

but I choose to picture you
in front of that old plankhouse,
red clay under bare toes,

gardens of potatoes, rows of
tall corn. Watermelon.
Maybe a chicken or two.

My heart is a gypsy-hillbilly;
she embraces your folklore. We
laugh, laugh, laugh, for the joke is

on us. Yes, the joke is on us.
And hardly just the two of us. No,
all who join in. So maybe it is

my Muse, who wants to dance,
while you fiddle and sing
in the slow-lifting fog.

One Response to “NC Poet Laureate by Helen Losse”

  1. delightful and full of meaning

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