Writers Corner for July 1, 2011

Don't be prolific by yourself.

Share your verse and prose with Press readers.

Send your Writers Corner submissions to Maureen Dolan, [email protected].

We prefer e-mail submissions, and we ask that you limit the length of your stories and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.

You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, 83814.

And now, we present more poems, stories and essays written by you, our readers.

•••

WHITE BIRD IN A GOLDEN SKY

The haze of a warm summer day obscured the distant mountain peaks as Jim Defranco took off in his 1941 Ryan monoplane. The pure white plane with the green numbers N134JD shined brightly against the stark black runway as it rose off the ground. The takeoff was smooth, not only due to the absence of any wind, but the skill of a pilot with over ten thousand hours logged during his long career. This would be a short flight. Jimmy, as his friends called him, just wanted to go up for a while before darkness fell.

With the wind flowing past him in the open cockpit, Jimmy put the fabric covered plane into a gentle bank to the right. He had always loved the way the world looked as he flew over farmland, mountains and towns. The peacefulness of all he saw from up so high settled into his mind and spirit.

As the white bird turned slowly, the sun began to slip a little further down. The sun changed the color of the mountain tops to a bright golden glow. Jimmy always marveled at this sight. Such beauty he thought. He turned the plane again so the sun was directly behind him. He looked at the left wing and saw the golden hue slide away from the leading edge, as once again the whiteness of his plane became the dominant color.

Jimmy became mesmerized by the brilliant gold that painted the mountains, and even the air his little plane flew on. His heart told him to keep going. Follow the rich color, ride upon the golden sky and don't go back. After all. Not everyone had the opportunity to visit this realm of golden freedom. This place between heaven and earth.

No one ever heard from Jimmy again. Search planes were sent out, but to no avail. The search was called off after ten fruitless days.

Friends mourned the loss of a good man, a great pilot, a man with the sky in his heart.

It's rumored that in the skies over Denali National Park, a white plane can be seen flying by the snow-covered mountains during the time when the sun never sets. A golden sky, holding a white bird in gentle embrace. And a man whose love for flying, and its peacefulness, goes on forever.

- Tom Carlson, Hayden

•••

FATHER'S DAY

Sons and daughters each have dads,

who once themselves were little lads,

they used to play and wrestle too,

and look around for something new.

Their boyhood was a precious thing,

unwinding like a ball of string,

until the day of fatherhood,

when nothing else could be so good.

A little life to shape a man,

a little love to form a plan,

a bit of pride in tired eyes,

and humbled by his child's size.

A father is a man complete,

when children beckon at his feet,

when making peace within his brood,

or earning pay for buying food.

So what to get for Father's Day?

perhaps a wink would be a way,

to let him know you understand,

that childhood is pretty grand.

- Jeff Simonson, Kellogg

•••

PERSONA

Oh to be a poet and not know it.

That I could walk the streets and not show it.

And others would think sane I be

Not caring by which brain dominance my glee.

To write crisp to targets desire

Not round corners in readers mire.

My creations make sense and not on deaf ears fall

Say it once and say it All.

- Larry L. Laws, Dalton Gardens