National Senior Poet Laureate
$500 Award
REGINA MURRAY BRAULT
" Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it.
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself." Chief Seattle
AT EITHER END OF THE WEB
She spins by moonlight,
weaving wet strands
from mailbox to brass knob,
binding my door shut with her silk.
Each morning I claw at the web,
unraveling her mending from the night
before. She watches from behind
a clapboard, waits for darkness.
What is this web to her
that she will not surrender
but patiently repair my damage?
Am I connected to the strands
like the crumpled moth trapped
in sticky tangles in my hand,
or like a nightmare snared
in a dream-catcher? What is this thing
I rip apart--some kind of primitive
survival map whose language has been lost
to me? Just as her instinct is to claim
this space, mine is to tear down obstacles.
Neither of us will back down. One has to go,
be banished from this struggle over territory.
Perhaps this is the way all wars begin--
small battles fought in strands of gossamer.
Regina Murray Brault,
Burlington, Vermont
Regina Murray Brault, 72, retired homemaker from Burlington, Vermont, is a returning Senior Poets Laureate winner at national and state levels. Her first national SPL win was in 1996 for her short poem "Headliner" and she returned as 2009 Vermont Senior Poet Laureate Award with her poem "Mother Tongue". She leads The Cherry Lane Poets monthly workshop in Burlington, Vermont. Regina was born in Oneonta, New York. A widow, she has three children and six grandchildren. She has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and more than 200 of her poems have appeared in 90-plus publications.
Her birth sign is Aries. |
National Senior Poet Laureate Runner Up
$100 Award
EDWARD C. ROBSON
THE SAIL
As sailors' wives in old New England
paced their rooftop galleries,
strove to learn the ways of patience,
ever scanned the surging seas,
scarely daring to rejoice
each time a sail hove into view
till keener eyes could name the ship
by fortune favored, and its crew,
so must I endure this waiting,
knowing not how long the term,
while the one who owns my heart
contends alone against the storm.
Arms that ache to hold and help her,
useless, hang against my sides.
Only words have I to send her
as she battles winds and tides.
Dare I hope those words will lend her
courage when she needs it most?
Will the might of love defend her,
rally hope when all seems lost?
Dear one, well I know your valiant
heart will in the end prevail;
till then, know that mine is watching
the horizon for your sail.
Edward C. Robson,
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
 Edward C. Robson, 58, is a neuropsychologist living in North Carolina. All of his previous publications have been in the area of creative nonfiction, but it was poetry that saved him when his life blue-screened eight years ago. When not working, reading or writing, Ed enjoys the company of his family, friends, garden and mineral collection. He added this message for the Senior Poets Laureate contest's producers to his bio sketch: Thank you for taking on the tremendous effort of holding this competition, and for your dedication to poetry in what seems to be an increasingly prosaic world. Our comment? It's because of poets like Ed that we do this each year! Ed's birth sign is Pisces.
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