My Nerd

My Nerd

A pocket-sized dragon sits on my finger,
lime green eyes blink, her nose flares electric blue,
and I rub her forehead; tame the untamed.

She purrs and toots (who knew girls farted!),
cries out with a sound reminiscent
of a whale's song.  It touches my heart.

I'm smitten.  I wear t-shirts to school
with dinosaurs, dragons, and mythical creatures;
ignore the chuckles of "popular" girls.

Am guilty of drawing said creatures
during class; look out the window, imagine wonders,
envision creatures yet to be discovered.

I might be laughable to those girls,
but Sparky, whom I've smuggled to class,
makes me happy.

So, I embrace my nerd, for that's my cool.

by Spencer Bednar, November 15, 2019

A poem for my Mother on her birthday.  

Buffalo Cove Field Trip

Buffalo Cove Field Trip

Twelve sixth-graders, two goats, three dogs,
camp guide.  For three days we ruled the wilderness.
Well, not exactly, but we survived.

Buffalo never roamed these mountains,
but surely bear, mountain lion, and fox;
we saw squirrels, birds and bugs...

and one lost bloodhound we named "Bob".
Our camp dogs ignored her; we were tired & hungry,
yet I wished I could have shared my food
when I saw her hiding in the brush.

The fresh air surprised me.  Deep breaths,
inhaled, swept energy through my veins.
Almost better than caffeine.  Almost.

No phones, no T.V.; we made rope.
Strips of bark, looped, twisted, overlapped.
I loved the repetition.

Stepped quietly, feet sideways, heel,
ball of foot, toes.  Learned to be silent,
melt into Mother Earth.

One for all, all for one.  We learned the hard way.
S'mores promised, but one boy kept talking.
Graham crackers, marshmallows, Hershey's. Gone.

Camp guide about to dispense the secret,
"How to keep warm."  Talking boy kept talking.
We woke up shivering. The next night,
we were overjoyed to discover "Quiet boy".

Happy to return home, yet sad to leave.
Mom and Dad groaned when I confessed
"My teeth were taking a sabbatical",
toothbrush found, unused.

by Spencer Bednar, November 11, 2019

Goodbye Summer

Goodbye Summer

by Spencer Bednar,  9-18-2019

Last day of freedom,

the sky, a pale blue ocean above my head,

clouds lazily dog-paddling like fish

or like white swans floating upon shimmering water.

Last year, two swans begged for bread, 

king and queen of small island

at center of lake.  This year, 

I’ve only seen ducks…

which I chased, rushing and flushing them.

The picnic was my choice

not mom’s veggies and stuff, 

but Doritos, pickles and a sub

with meat, cheese, and mustard,

and a sprinkle of lettuce. 

Ice cold soda would have made it

…. perfect. But Mom packed

“nutritious” water.

Like the puppies, Dad was a toddler,

not wanting to go down for a nap.  

I felt happy as we were soon 

bombarding each other with blasts
of water-gun wrath, running around trees,

and rolling down hills. 

The puppies, leashed, barked

and cheered us on. Mom read magazines,

snuck a BBQ chip or two (possibly 64).

In every story, there is a close,

or there won’t be a new adventure.  

My new beginning began the next day.

Sixth grade.