Poems and readings by Lennie Hay
On February 21, Victoria Dym introduced Lennie Hay to an enthusiastic group of OLLI poets during an Open Mic event at the Charles D. Fendig Public Library. Together they held a round robin of readings based on topics audience members pulled out of a wicker basket, proving, at every turn, their ability to deliver brilliant verse on a wide range of subjects. After a short break, audience members contributed their own skillfully written poems. This issue of OLLI Connects includes articles featuring video recordings of the live readings and a selection of the poems presented during two joyful hours on a chilly winter afternoon. We invite you to begin with the splendid and emotionally searing work of guest poet, Lennie Hay.— Editor.
Saving Face
from Lost in America
Broadstone Books 2024
Did she sob in the rice field
as her second son
Jung Lin, my father,
walked away
to follow brother,
father to the Gold Mountain?
How did Grandmother Jung
make a woman’s life
deserted
one of many
in her village?
Face an empty bed?
Tend to crops,
water buffalo, pigs?
Did she dream of their return?
At midnight see them
walk a road
back to her
desolate at dawn
when the rooster woke her?
Did choice ever cross her doorway?
When the government came
for her land
thousand-year home—
(same year I was born)
torn knees and hands
made a blood trail
when she climbed the stone wall
of the family well.
She chose to cleanse her shame
deep in cold water.
Forgiveness and Late Afflictions
Forgiveness
The giant, once well buried, now stirs.*
A buried giant arose from the gulf
to bawl its pain skyward, heave water hills
into a violet sky. It shot thick spray
along the beach and lumbered inland
dragging seaweed ropes and fish-stink.
Trees bowed in supplication, sea oats danced
for his pleasure. Grooved sand roads opened wide.
Birds fled home to sheltering mangrove nests.
Doors and windows slammed shut in his face.
His roar punched palm trees, slung loose cottage boards.
My room shook to his howls as they wrapped
me in a blanket of noise, thick like lava flows
devouring my rest, my favorite dream.
At sunrise I hurry toward the basin
of his midnight fury, step over orphan buoys,
lost plastic. I wade in quiet morning waters.
*The epigraph is from Kauzo Ishiguro’s 2015 novel, The Buried Giant.
from Lost in America,
Broadstone Books 2024
Late Afflictions
To be old in the time of disease is to be angry
for the crushed wren on the sidewalk; for the resurrection
lily, its stem bent by the storm; for school children
who carry their nightmares in backpacks;
for the dead tree in my yard waiting to disintegrate;
to be angry at lies spread, truth trampled;
for families who nightly leave the table hungry;
for women dealing with more babies and less choice.
I wait for hours of music to wrap me,
tickle my ears, awaken my soul; for raucous evenings
when family and friends surround our table
laden with fresh shrimp and gratitude. I stay grumpy
knowing forever reads of poems and stories must end.
I already miss coffee mornings with the sun
as it peeks over the river. My afternoon steps
slow during long walks around Perrin Pond
or near a grave Gulf keeping my secrets.
I fear no more dark chocolate nibbles
to comfort my evenings. And I mourn
the hour when my beloved will disappear
into the abyss without me.
Published in Invisible City Lit 2023
an online journal
Original Sins and Recent Blemishes
from Lost in America
Broadstone Books 2024
The southwest corner
of the bathroom mirror
reveals a black flaw,
same shape as Cuba.
Then all manner of places
stare back,
facial topography.
A Galapagos nose hair hangs,
clings to the Isle of Ferdinande.
The pores of St. Croix dot
hill and vale, circle a nose.
A burnished Macau mole here,
Taipei freckle there.
Once familiar forehead
now grooved by narrow land masses,
Caladesi, Weedon and Longboat Keys.
Brown liver spots multiply.
Skinny tracks,
years of ploughed furrows.
Pores emerge.
Damnable hag hairs
mark me.
I switch off the light,
slam the door.
Lennie Hay grew up in the Midwest living between two cultures—Chinese immigrants and German Ukrainian farmers. She now lives half of the year on the banks of the Ohio River in Southern Indiana and half of the year in Indian Shores, Florida. She earned her undergraduate degree in English from the University of Minnesota, master’s and doctorate degrees in education from the University of Louisville and an MFA in poetry from Spalding University. For more than 40 years, Lennie worked as a teacher, principal, district leader and educational consultant. She grew up studying piano and pipe organ and indulges her love of jazz and classical music whenever and wherever possible. Lennie’s work has been published in various regional, national, and international print and online journals such as The Louisville Review, Accents, Shanghai Literary Review, The Heartland Review, and City Lights e Magazine among others. Additionally, her work was included in the 2019 literary anthology Boom and in the 2024 Florida Bards Poetry Anthology.
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