The Poem: Poem From the Hot Mother

Tom Stock is a true Long Island poet and I believe he would love to simply live in the Pine Barrens and when a change was needed he would be at the beach on Fire Island. His chapbook “Hidden Agenda: A Poetry Journey,” an offering from 2012, reveals his love of nature. Sit tight while he walks you through green moss at mounds of red wintergreen berries.

­— Beacon Poetry Editor Billy Hands

Poem From the Hot Mother

by Tom Stock

Five blades of grass
Only objects in a black and white photograph
Catching light enough to stand out above
A blackened lawn almost invisible

Like a tiny, empty bubble in a rock
From a volcano
Bubble formed in cooling lava
A tiny bubble
Carried from the Hot Mother

“Because what is?”
And if I don’t know what is?

Babylon, March 14, 2019

The Beacon is accepting poetry submissions at poetry@eastendbeacon.com.

Beth Young

Beth Young has been covering the East End since the 1990s. In her spare time, she runs around the block, tinkers with bicycles, tries not to drown in the Peconic Bay and hopes to grow the perfect tomato. You can send her a message at editor@eastendbeacon.com

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