{"id":400321,"date":"2023-10-02T14:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-10-02T14:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/?p=400321"},"modified":"-0001-11-30T00:00:00","modified_gmt":"-0001-11-29T14:00:00","slug":"Autumnal-Appalachian-October-Offerings","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/Autumnal-Appalachian-October-Offerings\/","title":{"rendered":"Autumnal Appalachian October Offerings"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>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, \u201cPoetry Fun for Four Seasons\u2014A Collection of Seasonal Poems (2003 &#8211; 2013).\u201d You will read about the above in poems below. Some poems have appeared in the Saipan Tribune over the past 10 years.<\/p>\n<p><h4>Old-Fashioned Orange October<\/h4>\n<\/p>\n<p>Now it is orange October a pumpkin clich\u00e9<\/p>\n<p>plump turkeys are destined for supermarts<\/p>\n<p>as November gets near short grows their day<\/p>\n<p>autumnal dirges now tear through their hearts<\/p>\n<p>vegetarians cook firm soybean curd<\/p>\n<p>basted turkeys in the oven slowly roasting<\/p>\n<p>hot juicy giblet gravy from the bird<\/p>\n<p>mashed potatoes for dinners we\u2019re hosting<\/p>\n<p>harvest brings an abundance of things nice<\/p>\n<p>fresh apple cider jugs chilling in the first frost<\/p>\n<p>gingerbread and pumpkin pies filled with spice<\/p>\n<p>covered with whipped cream regardless the cost<\/p>\n<p>candy corn, cookies, and other sweet delights<\/p>\n<p>end our orange October jack-o-lantern nights.<\/p>\n<p><h4>What Autumn Taught \u2019Em<\/h4>\n<\/p>\n<p>Leaves of maple were falling<\/p>\n<p>So I caught \u2019em<\/p>\n<p>Geese in the clouds headed south<\/p>\n<p>So I sought \u2019em<\/p>\n<p>Buck with a big rack of horns<\/p>\n<p>So I shot him<\/p>\n<p>Winds cold up in the hills<\/p>\n<p>So I fought \u2019em<\/p>\n<p>Knees of old in pain<\/p>\n<p>So I gottem.<\/p>\n<p><h4>A Wild Turkey Quartet<\/h4>\n<\/p>\n<p>Tom turkey asks please give me a chance<\/p>\n<p>to eat, give me a chance to gobble like you<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ll find some low bush cranberries<\/p>\n<p>and some dropped apples on the ground<\/p>\n<p>your control over my death is fine<\/p>\n<p>just give me a chance to eat before I die.<\/p>\n<p>The way that turkey flew<\/p>\n<p>and gobbled as it ran<\/p>\n<p>gave me a different view<\/p>\n<p>and changed my hunting plan<\/p>\n<p>it put into my head a serious change of mood<\/p>\n<p>so instead of cold and dead<\/p>\n<p>I will not shoot the dude.<\/p>\n<p>Tom turkey waits for carving<\/p>\n<p>to be untrussed and dressed<\/p>\n<p>moist and tender stays the turkey breast<\/p>\n<p>turkey gravy with giblets<\/p>\n<p>turkey stuffing with oysters and niblets.<\/p>\n<p>Wishbone! Wild turkey almost gone<\/p>\n<p>as Thanksgiving must next day at dawn<\/p>\n<p>tomorrow\u2019s soup is turkey noodle<\/p>\n<p>cranberry muffins a loaf of rye<\/p>\n<p>hot corn bread and apple streusel<\/p>\n<p>fresh whipped cream and apple pie.<\/p>\n<p> <img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/images\/imgupload\/51ec1f1100d5d7eea9228e5f43276c9f.jpg\" width=\"480\" height=\"360\" \/><\/p>\n<p>Joey aka &#8220;Pepe Batbon&#8221; Connolly is a retired educator who taught in the CNMI, NOLA, and LVNV. He is the Poet Laureate of Tinian and enjoys stargazing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I was raised in northern Appalachia on the Allegheny Plateau in the Southern Tier of&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-400321","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-opinion"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/400321","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=400321"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/400321\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=400321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=400321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.saipantribune.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=400321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}