Dennis Herrell
Dennis Herrell

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Dennis Herrell has been writing poetry for forty years during his adult life as teacher, outside sales person, and, lately, antique dealer. He is like every poet in the world – always in training, and painfully aware of it. Enter his world to read some poems he has had published.

 

Counting To One Hundred

 

 

To be fair, you must count

at an even pace, with a measured breath

and metronome

of voice clear and loud enough

to reach around giant tree trunks,

through leaves,

over ligustrum hedges,

to the farthest place a hider could hide.

 

It was understood by all members

of the league of hide-and-seek

that your tongue must not slur

the numbers, or skip,

or count by tens.

Your eyes must be tightly closed

and pressed into the crook of your arm,

up against the counting tree of It.

 

What fast decisions a runner had to make

in that space of one to hundred,

eyes searching,

mind calculating on the go,

run, think, and run

as the count went on,

and you grew desperate in your search

for the most perfect of all the places.

 

In this game of hours that went to supper,

of long fun days

and precious weeks of summer,

what was fair was fair,

and what was right was always right.

 

 

Dennis Herrell

(1/18/10 – Connecticut River Rev.)

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