Poems by Jacob Friesenhahn
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Elafonisi
by Jacob Friesenhahn
From Canary Summer 2024
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.
The tourists pour in all day now.
Their cars brave as mountain goats
climb the treacherous hills.
There are parking lots everywhere
and a huge new hotel.
The pink sand is still here
glowing like a light sunburn
where the sea hits the shore.
There are signs now
legislating as best as they can:
You must respect this place.
You must not take the sand...
back to your homes
where it loses its magic
kept on your mantel in a jar
or forgotten in a drawer.
The pink sand is still here
though some say it’s not really pink
it’s white just like the rest
dyed by pigments squeezed
from the crushed bodies
of organisms too small to see.
I have not been here for ten years
or eleven or twelve maybe.
I think of the changes
what has been taken from me
who walks this beach alone.
I pass more tourists.
They hold out their phones.
They haven’t been told –
the pink sand cannot be recorded.
The sand needs salt and air
water and sun and breeze
to blush in innocence.
I kneel down slowly.
Even in my hands
even before it falls
through my fingers
the sand is intangible.
It is still here.
© Jacob Friesenhahn
Oyamel
by Jacob Friesenhahn
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