Autumnal Appalachian October Offerings
I was raised in northern Appalachia on the Allegheny Plateau in the Southern Tier of upstate New York. The Southern Tier runs along the northern border of Pennsylvania from the Appalachian Mountains in the east to Lake Erie in the west. My father built our house along a hard dirt road amidst small dairy farms. Across the road to the east were hay fields, to the south corn fields, out back was a hill covered with mixed evergreen and deciduous hardwood trees. To the north across a creek that bordered our property was a large field used as a horse pasture. I grew up eating game animals, including squirrel, groundhogs (woodchucks), rabbits, pheasants, and white tail deer. Fresh venison liver (in Chamorro higadon binadu) was and still is my favorite meat. Autumn harvest meant lots of overflowing pumpkin patches, apple orchards, and grape vineyards. The hill behind our house was covered with bright orange, scarlet, yellow, and tan foliage from hardwood trees of maple, oak, beech, white birch, ash, and hickory. These poems are on my CD recorded in Las Vegas, “Poetry Fun for Four Seasons—A Collection of Seasonal Poems (2003 – 2013).” You will read about the above in poems below. Some poems have appeared in the Saipan Tribune over the past 10 years.
Old-Fashioned Orange October
Now it is orange October a pumpkin cliché
plump turkeys are destined for supermarts
as November gets near short grows their day
autumnal dirges now tear through their hearts
vegetarians cook firm soybean curd
basted turkeys in the oven slowly roasting
hot juicy giblet gravy from the bird
mashed potatoes for dinners we’re hosting
harvest brings an abundance of things nice
fresh apple cider jugs chilling in the first frost
gingerbread and pumpkin pies filled with spice
covered with whipped cream regardless the cost
candy corn, cookies, and other sweet delights
end our orange October jack-o-lantern nights.
What Autumn Taught ’Em
Leaves of maple were falling
So I caught ’em
Geese in the clouds headed south
So I sought ’em
Buck with a big rack of horns
So I shot him
Winds cold up in the hills
So I fought ’em
Knees of old in pain
So I gottem.
A Wild Turkey Quartet
Tom turkey asks please give me a chance
to eat, give me a chance to gobble like you
I’ll find some low bush cranberries
and some dropped apples on the ground
your control over my death is fine
just give me a chance to eat before I die.
The way that turkey flew
and gobbled as it ran
gave me a different view
and changed my hunting plan
it put into my head a serious change of mood
so instead of cold and dead
I will not shoot the dude.
Tom turkey waits for carving
to be untrussed and dressed
moist and tender stays the turkey breast
turkey gravy with giblets
turkey stuffing with oysters and niblets.
Wishbone! Wild turkey almost gone
as Thanksgiving must next day at dawn
tomorrow’s soup is turkey noodle
cranberry muffins a loaf of rye
hot corn bread and apple streusel
fresh whipped cream and apple pie.
Joey aka “Pepe Batbon” Connolly is a retired educator who taught in the CNMI, NOLA, and LVNV. He is the Poet Laureate of Tinian and enjoys stargazing.
