Poetry
In 2020, my chapbook "Rented Chickens" won first place in Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets Chapbook contest. "Rented Chickens" is available for purchase on my etsy site.
Poetry is a form of diary keeping. I have written more than 400 poems to date, and many are published. My poems have appeared in the annual calendar for Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, Rosebud, Free Verse, Hidden Treasures, Hummingbird, Wisconsin Academy Review, Ariel, and many others.
Sleepless Under a Wolf Moon
No howling wolves lamenting hunger
but I awaken anyway, the hour early,
one hour past midnight. I am often pulled
from deep sleep after midnight
by an invisible hand. Now begins fruitless search
for sleep’s return. Tossing and turning,
flopping over to the bed’s other side
until giving up, walking to the den,
the room where I watch TV, sew,
and frequently find solace during early
morning hours when the world, but not I, sleeps.
I like this room best in the night, looking over
my backyard full of mature trees—oaks,
silver maples—their long branches reaching
high into the sky. The moon’s cold white light
is reflected back by clouds and up by snow
so that earth is almost as bright as day,
making the branches seem like my arms and hands
when I reach for the sky during Tai Chi.
I wonder what it would be like to shimmy up the big oak
just past the window, climb its branches,
and reach for a moon beam where I could swing
back and forth exalting in luminescence and peace,
my version of a jungle without tropical heat.
But the moon seems to tell me I can’t enter
its private rendezvous with trees.
Now you must sleep, it whispers, and so
I fluff a pillow, stretch out with a blanket,
gaze one more time at the sweet beckoning light
then close my eyes and journey to slumber’s
darkness to swing from dream to dream.
All Materials are copyrighted © 2020 Candace Hennekens
Poetry is a form of diary keeping. I have written more than 400 poems to date, and many are published. My poems have appeared in the annual calendar for Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, Rosebud, Free Verse, Hidden Treasures, Hummingbird, Wisconsin Academy Review, Ariel, and many others.
Sleepless Under a Wolf Moon
No howling wolves lamenting hunger
but I awaken anyway, the hour early,
one hour past midnight. I am often pulled
from deep sleep after midnight
by an invisible hand. Now begins fruitless search
for sleep’s return. Tossing and turning,
flopping over to the bed’s other side
until giving up, walking to the den,
the room where I watch TV, sew,
and frequently find solace during early
morning hours when the world, but not I, sleeps.
I like this room best in the night, looking over
my backyard full of mature trees—oaks,
silver maples—their long branches reaching
high into the sky. The moon’s cold white light
is reflected back by clouds and up by snow
so that earth is almost as bright as day,
making the branches seem like my arms and hands
when I reach for the sky during Tai Chi.
I wonder what it would be like to shimmy up the big oak
just past the window, climb its branches,
and reach for a moon beam where I could swing
back and forth exalting in luminescence and peace,
my version of a jungle without tropical heat.
But the moon seems to tell me I can’t enter
its private rendezvous with trees.
Now you must sleep, it whispers, and so
I fluff a pillow, stretch out with a blanket,
gaze one more time at the sweet beckoning light
then close my eyes and journey to slumber’s
darkness to swing from dream to dream.
All Materials are copyrighted © 2020 Candace Hennekens