By Greg Spencer
I saw his eyebrows rise and the pioneer
in his pen trek through a forest of words.
He looked so noble sitting there, dwelling
deeply in each enduring line, sighing
like Lincoln on the train to Gettysburg.
Sometimes he stared in artful wonder, looking,
I imagine, for Wordsworth’s open hand
to a chestnut road at dawn or a way
to teach what he’d been taught.
While he feigned attention to others near,
I knew he was having a poetic experience.
I saw his aura grow with light, sweep
out and catch me in its shining.
Greg Spencer has taught communication studies at Westmont for over thirty years. He has written five books, including Awakening the Quieter Virtues and Reframing the Soul. Next up is a semi-autobiographical novel called Boomer Boy. He loves being married. He and Janet have six grandchildren, all of whom know that the secret word is binka-bonka. Also by this poet: "Like So Many Bananas" and "Silent Retreat in Texas"